Papa went and mama is forever gone,
The world little notes my state;
None seems to care below the heavens,
And alone I'm left to bear my fate.
When they lived they taught me how to pray
And I've never been slow in saying my prayers,
Although the heavens got meaner with their demise
And they no longer seem to care about my affairs.
Suicide is not an option and this I pretty well know,
And I'm prepared to lead a life of want and woe.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem