Oh! father of the fathers
Seasons have come and gone
Without your foot mark
On our soil.
Look at our pregnant friends, they can afford pregnancy,
But for us who were born barren and important
Can only bit our fingers and chew our gums.
Oh! father if all sins are the same,
Then why is blessing and reward not so?
If we should ask and wait to be given
Then how times should we knock before it is open?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Oh our soil, of mother, oh father only faithful persons pray in affection. Beautiful poem.