Take off oh death; this your veil
That makes your face so ugly
You are neither scary,
Allow your heart be unveil.
You keep your head so high,
Your shoulders above your chest,
This made men fear your vest
Cause they feel you make them die.
Why does your heart seems so pure
And helping hands stretched wide,
From where then comes this pride
That men says cannot be cure?
You take sick men from distress;
You save old men sidelined;
Are this acts so unkind
That women weep and stress?
Clear us this uncertainty
That paint you as monster
I'ant sure you are finer
Show your identity.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem