She stood in a long line, pouring with sweat.
Praying that there would be enough for everyone.
Finally, overjoyed and thankful, she collected her kit,
Plastered with grinning photos of 20 party leaders' sons.
She quickly hurried home to feed her children.
Ashamed to beg, her husband had hung himself a month ago.
She cooked a pot of rice, mixed with some dal,
And carried it past her hungry children to the hut next door.
She poured out a large portion for four starving faces.
Then came home, fed her children and licked the pot dry.
"Why did you have to feed them first, Mother? , ' they asked.
She replied, 'If they die of hunger before us, then what am I? "
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem