There is this woman-question, as ever
She shrieked out from the bowels of Time
Fluttering her soulless eyes in fiery anger
A megalomaniac emperor had embalmed her
And embedded her in cold marble vaults
The marbled beauty of the magnificent mausoleum
Smothered her inner self and left her cold
Just like this man’s fabled passion for her
A fourteenth child- birth was not for celebration
She had helped create his entity, lost her own.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem