Not Queen, not King
but Quing, a name unchained,
a crown that fits every head
without measure of gender.
Children are seeds of the same sun,
water them with equal rain,
teach them to rise as voices,
not as echoes of bias.
The cradle knows no gender,
only the warmth of care;
the future knows no division,
only the strength we share.
Let no dream be clipped
for being "too much" or "too soft, "
let hands build bridges without boundaries.
For in the word Quing lies truth:
that worth wears no label,
that power is not masculine or feminine,
but human,
and freedom is for all who breathe.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem