When I held it in front of me,
Pointed at my belly,
There were two pains:
One would come,
A searing drum,
Which in turn
Could alleviate
The other I felt long before,
Even then at that very moment,
Continuing on forever,
Unless I did something.
I heard her voice
And chose to suffer.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem