Esther Praba


Like a dewdrop,
Like a pearl in its shell-house,
The little darling
Was safe in her mother's womb.

Dreams in the mother's mind
Shattered by fate were
taken out of the womb.

She looked at her baby
Fair, cute, alluring.
She touched the babe

Held the little darling
In her arms
The body was cold.

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