If God is unwilling, even a leaf will not flutter in the wind, right mom?

If God is unwilling, even a leaf

will not flutter in the wind, right mom?

©   Ye Yint Thet Zwe

English translation Ye Yint Tin Aung Moe

Mother, mother…

I whispered slowly and softly

Tears dripping down my cheeks.

I can feel winter approaching

Among the sun rays

That Pass through the freshest

And greenest of leaves.

Summer time is fading away

Slowly and quietly.

Gone are the days of the midnight sun.

The night can finally get it's life back

Firmly and surely.

In their four seasons,

Only I can't get a hold of my life.

I am still fighting with death, mother.

Gone are the days of fasting  

I went to the side of God to pray today.

Did it for my father who has passed

behalf of mother who´s left behind.

I prayed for the family members that are apart,

my beloved land of Burma and for mother earth I prayed  

while tears rolled down over my cheeks.

O mother.

"Please come back son."...

That's the voice of you calling out again and again.

I am not sure if I will ever

have a chance to feel regret by your feet again.

I know my illness the best, mother.

For the forty years I've lived,

Loved my father and mother,

My two brothers and my nieces

I loved my dear little dove,

Loved my daughter and son… my relatives

I loved people of different beliefs,

Loved my friends and acquaintances,

And out of love, for the truth

I loved poems.

 O mother, I didn´t do my part for all

except these loves.

I was not able to... as I lived alone

I had more time to think over,

Why people on this earth

commit suicide by their own hands.

I started to understand them slowly,

bit by bit,mother.

Even though mother, before I die

I want to hug you once more,

to live together with my little dove,

daughter and son once again.

I want to write the poems

that I love once again.

All these wishes and thoughts

Makes me want to defy

for the Death itself, mother.