Sisterly love,
Is not a shove.
I love her,
Yes I’m sure.
Even when she is bad.
She’ll always make me glad.
God has given this pleasant gift.
From heaven above in the rift,
Which gave me sunlight.
And without a fight
She was here,
And not there.
I love her,
This I’m sure.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem