I often wonder at my lack of strength
Lack of a basketful of other things
I say to myself "Funkeeeee wake up"
Be all the next girl is
Or the other ones skipping gracefully about
I cannot work for long, for my eyes and feet get numb
I cannot fight for myself, a brittle voice and teary eyes make me give up
And a list of other things I cannot mention for fear of becoming a boring poet
Now see once in a while
When the sun is high at noon and the weather gay
Or when the aroma of my creations fill my galley
Or my lover winks at my shy little face
I remember the other things I am
The things I could do
I understand I am all I need to be
Words and joy never fail me for I am WOMAN.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem