Mother, he came at
Roared breathe liquor
Ruffled lips mine
And tore coat made
Mother, he unzip did
Burst lips pecked
Weight to walls
Where tore pants mine-
Mother, I screamed
He fell unconscious
Clamor tarried on
But could pierce dark not
Mother, revive bother
Learnt lips to lips gave
When crowds sneak
And accuse murderer
Mother, law calls tempter
A reason to sin
Was tattered coat truly
Brought by his doing
Mother, know be no murderer
Nor wench earning gallows
But why trusted law deem so
That public witness against?
Mother, why do I guilt bear
That public clamors my death?
Thought strolls beauty my damn
As first clamor a shame, my nude
Mother, teacher strength
Strength that brings my coffin
Teach none to surviving sibling
Only fear, let know beauty be curse
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem