I told you I shall scour the coal
They set fire …I scoured it
Agnes, you think I shall see those tears in yours eyes?
I told you my name is Nichola
This is the hot coal on my palm
Crying for relief.I is the wind that turns it to ashes.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Very powerful & assertive & authoritative.