Babies kept in prison by people tired of living,
there is no hope, love is barren, arid, deadened
by hurt.
Touching upon the nature of God, seeing the poverty
man has shared, walking in shadows, holding on,
trying to become.
Forgiving nature's held quietly within, waiting
for hope to begin in another person.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem