There is the mother
Who cooks too much
To feed her children,
And there is the mother
Who cooks too little,
Or not at all.
There is the bird
That returns to its nest
With just a frail worm
And feeds it to her babies,
And there is the bird
That kills its frail babies
Just to eat the worm.
There is the lover
Who argues that
There is never
Enough love,
And there is the other lover
Who argues that love is
All there ever
Was.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem