After that death
there was that other,
that part of self,
that link which
had been torn asunder,
she felt, the dead child,
that part of her not
there anymore, that part
tissue, nerves, eyes, hair,
all of her now no more,
lost from her like some
fine gem lost on a faraway
deserted shore. Thoughts
of the dead child occupied
each inch of space within
her head. How and why
and where? Questions
poured over her like one
beneath a waterfall, so she
could hardly breath for grief,
the fingers at her throat
seemingly tightening, her
heart aching as if squeezed,
her eyes shut against the light
or the dimness at each night.
After the child's death, was
that other death, that part and
parcel of herself torn away,
flesh, blood, memories of eyes,
smiles, first words, first steps,
first kiss, first tug upon the dug,
all gone in that other death,
and other going through dying.
And beyond that, the magpie,
alone, up in a dull sky flying.
The sorrow of the death of beloved child is a great loss and a poem which expresses the feeling is so great.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Verily, death of a child is a great loss and grief that cannot be easily consoled.