my friend from the mountains
of Tabon celebrates her birthday tomorrow
and i sent her my advance greetings
she says she has no money
and she has no man
and she is sick
and she is tired
and she is depressed.
and i tell her
please come to our house
catch the chicken
and cook it
and put some blood on your forehead
so that the bad luck
may transfer to the chicken
as a matter of belief
she refuses the celebration
i guess
what is she as an old maid for?
i guess the word is
hopelessness.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem