Sonata, are you like a woman?
Are you as elusive?
As dark and dim?
Acknowledging you have no will to govern
the meaning of your own existence?
Bending. Conforming to your listener's desires?
No strength or discourse in your chorus
Cantata, are you like a woman?
Reeling in your audiences with nonsensical whims
Stupid and just as willing?
No, a woman is unlike a sonata
A sonata rids us of our sorrow
and the latter yearns to let us not forget what sorrow is
Woman, you are not like a cantata as you are not soothing
Joyful, or as beautiful
Rather, your bid should be to remain silent
As silence fares no more, no less.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem