I hear that of hers which fills my ears
I feel her pain that of which she kills
I taste her blood in which she does not vain
I touch her skin which is cold as ice in a warm summer's day
I see the fear that she cannot hide
I know this not because of my personal design
But because I am that girl in which I cannot denied
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem