Twas the dread of the night that brought screams to her eyes
, was it her demise or was it surprise?
Maybe demise is what she dreamt of on that early sun rise.
Or was it surprise that sneaks up on you in the dead of night.
It was none but of the cries of her child's eyes, not her own.
She cradled her child until he was deprived of sleep.
Her blood shot eyes closed with a burning cry.
She had loved her child until she could not see his closed eyes.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Her blood shot eyes closed with a burning cry. She had loved her child until she could not see his closed eyes. Beautiful expressions of the great love of the MOther. very touching. thank you dear Poetess. tony