if even one thought it was;
and within,
there be it's other,
your brother.
and then,
bring me your hand,
so i may then know,
it's sister.
and then there,
your head,
when it's tired and sore,
knows no shoulder.
and may she come,
with more milk,
too make it better.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem