No mother can be a cause for their children’s fate-but
I am lamentably being to my son-so
I sit by him to count the shedding
As it falls...I feel the plunging from the tallest mountain
I vigil for each one
My howling stretches than blissful days
No pioneers to break this catastrophic coming off
Lasses keep apart him as I used to be
Though I escaped from being wife of a bald man-
God let me be a mother of so
May be....
I might have been held by a poignant curse
I pray that-
My son’s curse so as not to hit any mother.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem