Childs eyes drip tears when, blinking.
From childhood sadness, thinking.
For her father was always, drinking.
Smelling of beer and rotted teeth, stinking.
What was her Ma, Ma, thinking?
To have married a man who loved his, drinking?
Grave now is his only, keeping.
From all of life’s misconstrued and stupid, thinking.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem