A child born out of purpose. A chill night, no warmth, Typhoon, no respite! Where to start, no way, Not to talk of forward, Mother has no milk, Herself is drained. Weep child! Let them hear, That would help you. Child weep, Let it be your consolation! Do not be like your fathers, That would not confess. Weep loudly, Let the desert rest!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem