Does she despair?
I don’t know…
Her expressions inexplicit;
Her face the same.
Yet for a time I looked closer:
analysed.
Beneath her plump softened cheeks
Her veins tighten,
Her blood, bloated; ready to explode.
Concealed in her eyes:
Sorrow, restraint from freedom,
Red of anger.
Debilitated; she still goes on
I gasp at what makes her run
Her pain submerges me into tears for her.
Does she ever breakdown?
I don’t know…
But I admire her
She is my strength
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
very touching poem digging the soul of women.. hats off to the effort regards sandhya