I entered this world,
Crying with hopes.
She fed me with her blood,
And I called her mother.
She walked together with me,
Hand-in-hand, sharing my feelings,
Through heights and depths of my life,
And I called her wife.
With tiny feet she entered,
Then she grew with time,
Making me proud of what she is,
And I called her daughter.
If not for their company,
Who am I, or what am I?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Lovely poem and deep. Good job! It makes me want to write a poem called 'In Praise of Women.' I think I will.