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To the woman not born for this love
It is a pity that I'm not your baby,
the fruit of your flesh and blood,
you will have provided me with such care and attention,
that nobody on the ground could imagine about.
You have nurtured me and grow from early years,
day and night kissing and plying tenderly.
And long before that the wholly nine months
I would be concluded in the placenta
prisoned in your belly and you gently brought me,
as the most dearest yours patient and heir of your life,
you constantly talking with me,
though I do not understand what these words matter
but I felt the eternal warmth of maternal love and strength
when your fingers so gentle touch to my body.
And then one day I was born in that world,
and put on your warm stomach carefully,
and the birth pangs unbearable
turned to the flash of limitless tenderness.
And I have lived with you till your last day,
enjoying by the ineffable love and happiness
And maybe then, dear, my lust, thirst and love for you
appeased and satisfied completely and forever.
Copyright © zamir osorov