In the beginning a child is born,
From a small village in the suburbs,
Everyone else is happy for the new creation,
But, the mother looks at the child,
Tears stream down her cheeks,
The midwives and everyone else,
Think that those are tears of joy,
But only, she knows why,
It's a joy and a tragedy for her,
She wishes she could tell everyone,
The great burden in her heart,
But she can't; Who can be trusted?
With such information,
Especially in a village,
Where no secret is a secret,
And every word spoken,
Even in the darkest places,
Spreads like forest fire.
That secret will have to live with her,
In silence, only God knows of it,
Until the day she rests in the bosom,
Where every soul must end,
"I am happy for this child
She...