In adversity and for pity
I can see her drops appear;
But why use them for deceit
to draw me away from a peer.
When do I or do I not grieve?
When do I or do I not fear?
If they are those of sudden joy,
I would love to share them with a cheer.
The crying of a girl is her blessing;
One that she never forgets to keep near.
O Lord, I ask thee why this unfair bias?
Not all, but with a tragedy at least gift the man a tear.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.