When you say you’re leaving
Lying prostrate on your deathbed
Do you think I will miss you?
When you have scampered me,
Teased and exhausted my resources?
And when you cry for freedom,
Freedom from fugitive
After attending those chama meetings,
Don’t you realize I long for your exit
So that I may find my own freedom to explore?
These desperate children you’ve sired,
Will they miss being pestered
By your emotional outbursts
When you released your rage on them?
I wonder who duped you
In that meeting of yesterday.
I wonder why you’ve not seen
The momentous moments we had
For the past two years,
That you call torturous.
I will miss your nagging
And not necessarily your love.
You can liberate yourself from these chains,
From my gripe grip.
And when you find that freedom,
Don’t call me as I won’t miss you!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
good love and freedom, thanks.