The ancient children shed cold tears
I thread those onto a white hair
I hurl the whole thing in the air
And wish that I had my own mère
No sun shines down for me
There's no milk-filled breast to feed
There's a tube that chokes my gullet
I've no navel on my stomach
Mother
I had no nipple to suckle
I had no warm place I was tucked in
I've never had my own name
Sired in haste and without semen
To the mother that never bore me
I have on this night sworn
To send her a painful fever
Then submerge her in the river
Mother
In her lungs there lives an eel
On my forehead the mark is sealed
I'll cut it out with a knife
Even if it ends my life
Mother
In her lungs there lives an eel
On my forehead the mark is sealed
Purge it with a knife's keen edge
Even if I bleed to death
Mother
Oh grant me strength
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