Don't you see
The bruises on her face,
The cut marks
And scratches?
She keeps it mum,
But the bruise on her face
Telling it
How her life is?
Oh, what to say about
The poor tales of a poor country,
What about poverty, scarcity, want of resources,
Human adjustment and mismatches?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem