what you cannot
accept
(for you have
standards of your
own,
goodness, beauty,
utility even)
here is mama,
she accepts whatever
son she gives
birth to and daughters
be they the one
whom you can call us
homely, (or ugly to use
the exact word)
so here is mother
the woman who can love you
for whatever you are,
dare me not tell that
you have never loved
her that much...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem