Bita
I would crawl to your feet
Had them kissed
Shed tears, wash your shoes
Clean paths with eyelids
That means life to parent
That means joy to father
That means health in being
That could, make me happy
That is all, if I could
But not there
Not, never
I fear things go wrong
For you and for us all
Imagine
I ring bell and a shout
And people all around
And the shame…
Oh no, no, rather die
Let me die, not be cause
To your shame…anyone’s
I was kicked out that door
Same door that I pass by
But never ring; enter…
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem