With a needle she creates
Tiny animal, humans and fruits such as dates
Her hands are strong and swift
Quietly trying to sew the rift
That has grown between her and the ones she adores
For the things she creates they always open closed doors
Her heart is heavy as she sew long into the night
Sewing sometimes by lamps and sometimes by candlelight
She's sewing her life away
Silently praying her sewing will keep the pain away
She makes clothes for her family, and for strangers
She works and creates with her needle no matter the dangers
Her heart is heavy but her hands work fast
For she does not know how long her time here on earth will last
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem