Su Ben Poet Narrative

Story of a Pitiful Woman I Heard From Somewhere

When the spirit of a woman 
who was trying to heal her deep-rooted enmities steps forward with her shoulders twitching overwhelmed with grief, her footmarks are filled with the bitterness of life and that’s why she never wants to look backwards, follows along with a heart-rending cry

The miserable woman’s only wish throughout her life was not an extraordinary one but a simple woman’s life; to sit around the dinner table at eventide and serve her smiling husband who returned from work with the foods she prepared, while watching the healthily growing children sharing the story of the day

It doesn’t matter whether the days would be 
the sun after sun’s present days or a series of cloud covered gloomy days, 
as long as there’s a respect between her and her husband, understanding differences of each other, therefore, it may be difficult but can be tolerated

It doesn’t matter if the dinner table is provided with all sorts of delicacies or not, as long as there’s a plate to go around the table; no matter whether she was satiated or not, as long as there’s a bowl of soup to share among the family members; the dress she wears need not be gorgeous like a peacock’s showy feathers, as long as it covers the body to protect her from heat of the day 
and cold of the night

It doesn’t matter if the dwelling place is not of a lordly mansion but a crudely shack, as long as there’s a roof and walls to protect the family from the rains and winds, it was more then enough for her if there’s a space that can be called her own thereby able to lie her worn out body down at night and sleep with a dream 
of whether sweet or even horrible

The woman was; however, abused by her husband every day and every night. Whenever the poor woman who never had a one peaceful day in her married life;
the woman whose face always covered with wounds and bruises; saved a little sum of hard earned money, her heartless husband returned for sure to grab the money and rushed out of the house for his pleasure

The woman whose misery now is ended goes the path, the spirit of a victimized life, and therefore, the sorrowful woman goes sobbing on the path of oblivion; her footmarks named embitterment she left behind follow the woman who goes holding never healing bruises tightly in her bosom

[I wonder why the story has to be ended this way? Is it because she 
committed unforgivably terrible sins in a previous existence? Or simply, 
she was so destined to carry bad karma?]

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