Ah! pregnant girl why weep?
Make your calculations now and exact
Calculate.
The father of the child now
Lays face upwards in the cherished
Tomb
And moves not
In vain to fill the church with sobs and
Shrieks occasional.
So with all us of flesh and blood
And human, all too human!
Remember the child.
The future beckons though the past
Be past.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem