i saw the one
drooping with white hair
mouth covered to avoid
infection
she says he needs
more sessions for the chemotherapy
she lost hope but he insists
there is
first time to see him
after two years and then
i sit on one of those
breakfast tables of the center
thinking like the way my wife does
everything in life is fair
what you took shall be always,
as always, given back
your hands cannot hold anything
you body cannot.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem