How little a day, sisters,
how little, for the world to collect flowers in front of our homes!
where we were born From the cradle to the grave where sleep
hit
-route all of our lives, should pave
flowers to celebrate
(which do not make us as Princess Diana did not see, or hear
the flowery avenues penalty-ridden London)
We want to see and smell the flowers. We
flowers that are not happy when we were born female instead of
male flowers We
that we cut the clitoris
And we bandaged the foot
who do not want flowers sent us to school for us to look to our brothers and we helped in the kitchen
Flowers
who got into bed at night and we covered her mouth to rape us while our mother was sleeping flowers
We paid us less for the heavier work Y
ran when we realized that we were We
pregnant flowers that condemned us to death forcing us to bear
by risking our lives
We want flowers to be protected from evil thoughts
forcing the veil and cover the body
Del has been banned from leaving the street without a male escort
we want flowers that we burned for witches
And we locked by crazy
Flowers hit us, which is drunk
Of that payment of unredeemed baby's food We want flowers
months of intriguing and raise false
flowers which he rages against his daughters, their mothers and their daughters
And home
poison in his heart for the same kind of flowers So many would be needed to dry the wet marshes where water
our eyes is mud
quicksand swallowing and spitting,
of those stubborn, a one, we will have to emerge.
Dawn with long hair on women curved. We
flowers today. How much we share.
's garden we were expelled. Gioconda Belli
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