‘A Woman’ and other poems

Thida Shania

A Woman

I am the foundation of home.
My whole family holds me by my legs.
I hold onto them.
 

I am the gardener to my offspring.
I nurture each flower.
Sometimes the water gets briny with my sweat.

I am the lamp that illuminates.
My body burns in darkness.
Pain — I could never feel my own.

I am the dancing doll of my house.
My tiny feet entertain everyone.
The floor beneath them sees red.

— —

An ox for a wad of paan

What does this air suffer from? 
My lungs suffocate when I breathe.

Why does the sun look desolate? 
There is twilight without dawn.  

How can I satiate hunger? 
An ox swapped for a wad of paan.

Where can I hide my body? 
Corpses, everywhere in every house.

How can I die in my land? 
My kin have been buried alive.

How can I cross the border?
Rivers bleed human blood.

What happened to the Queen of Justice?
I search for her everywhere —
nowhere I find her

— —

Once  

Don't answer on my behalf;
Grant me self-confidence just once.
 

Don't chide me to right my wrongs;
Notify me the difference just once.

Don't sustain my burden;
Let me depend on myself just once.

Don't protect me thousands of times;
Teach me self-defense, just once.

Don't presume me weak over my soft skin;
Realise my strength who conceived you once.

An ox for a wad of paan was previously published in Picking off New Shoots Will Not Stop the Spring: Witness Poems and Essays from Burma/Myanmar (1988-2021) (2022).