She walks around in misery
She walks around in pain
She walks around—making me go insane
Believing she has
Rights?
Believing she can she have
Ambitions?
Believing she can walk alone
any one of these nights?
What Nonsense
What Rubbish
…What a thought— that makes me tense
The power in her swaying hips
My power in my voice
The power in her pouted lips
No need there be
for any opportunity of choice
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem