They are slain for none their sins,
But of mine-
For Mine very sins,
Their sin was just being my kids;
Who died before birth:
Pining, suffocating in the mother's womb.
He was lonely or they were twins
Mine complexion,
Or their mother's kind notion;
Slain is their mild smile,
Infant innocence of wild emotions.
Their mother even did share their pine,
Their endless pain brought them alone
To the Death's black shine.
Their pleasures ended without the term (pleasure) known,
Their wild ecstasy has never been shown.
If ever those foreheads-
These lips shall kiss?
If ever this heart-
Can have their companying bliss?
Oh no!
Vain are these longings,
Impossible is the bliss.
No love no care,
No nourishing ever known
When parental cruelty was all to be done.
She (their mother) might have her suppressed sorrows
I couldn't feel those white hues.
This lament has a power that can remind one of a volley of griefs spread across a thousand hearts. Human life is often a chance game and the winners remain mostly unknown.
Wow wow wow....! ! ! Those emotions, those regrets....and those emotions..... So exact...! ! So beautiful....an abstract! ! ! I loved your poem...i loved this...
It is unfortunate that children before they recieve the warmth of love are strangled in the mothers womb! A mother's womb that should have sheltered those helpless lives turned out to be the slaughter house! But if the father is truely remorseful, it can purge him of his sin and sure he can feel contented that they are in a safe haven of true bliss from where no one can snatch them away! A moving write that has brought tears into my eyes! !
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This poem is sincerely beautiful. Bien!