The long quarrel
Was about a short issue
And I listerned endlessly
To a bedtime story
Told in a car.
From the vehemence
And outpouring of words
There was an infidel in the car
And I was demonished
By one who should rescue me
From the sting of the public tongue.
I was quiet
Quiet with unspoken pain
No flood of rain
Could sweep
I was calm
Resolute to be a deaf-mute
But provided an abode
For pain in my heart
Every bit of the word
In this quarrel
An inoculum of immunity
So I'm strong today.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem