moved by nothing but
pity
our love for the inferior
kind
has been mistaken as
lust
our concern for the flight
of that
strange migrating bird
has been twisted as another form
of pornography
just the same we continue what
right we can do
their mistakes cannot be not ours
if we submit
to another fear that we may lose
what we have
so unskillfully finished.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem