O maa! if I were a flower bud
I’d bloom before the first
appearance of light
in the morning sky.

If I were a morning bird
I’d fly high before the hunter
wakes up.

If I were a snail
I’d hide myself into the shell, O maa!
before the stork bird pecks my soft body.

If I were my own creator
I’d cut off my hand immediately
Before the completion of the shape.

Oh, if I were Death myself
I’d never die for the
second time.

O maa! I want to taste the world.
I want to feel what I am.
O, let me live
Let me live, O maa!

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