I read to him the letter--
because he couldn't read
Slowly, I read--
knowing how the slightest cut
would cause his soul to bleed
I read to him the letter--
sent by his loving wife…
The very last letter she wrote
before she lost her life
And so I read to him the letter--
knowing of his pain and strife--
hoping that, from his throat,
he would put away the knife
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem