I was looking at the middle age lady sitting on a veranda
Her blue beautiful eyes were thinking something in depth
The spring of tears were preparing to ooze out as any time point
All her pains were accumulating like water drops in her heart
She has thousand questions but no answer or no clue
She opened the white clothe covered over the dead body
Her daughter lying silently on the ground like a sage
Closed eyes, no anger, worry, pain, love or happiness
Her eyes could not control the door for the tears
They were flowing like an overflowing un-controlled river
She was looking at the little angel, came to the world few minutes ago
She is lucky to see the face of that angel but her daughter!
Who cried for hours in bone breaking labour pain
Was kneeling and stretching her legs, shouting in dried mouth
Holding the saline stand and pushing the air inside
And slept forever before listening the first cry of her baby
The old lady closed the white clothes covered over the dead body
Put the little angel in her half slept heart and washed her with tears.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Oh My God! So much pain and suffering badly affecting the members of an unfortunate family. Great portrayal of a traumatic scene of a child-birth resulting in the death of the mother. Thanks for sharing this masterpiece.