When you are asked to choose
Between love and money
As a young girl
Born with a wooden - not silver -
Spoon,
What will you pick?
Do not say love,
Unless you wish to deceive
Yourself.
I am told that women
Are to be loved
But that love is sometimes
Too feeble even in her own home,
So that when poverty comes
In at the door
Love instead of struggling him away
Flies out the window
To God knows where.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem