dutiful daughter孝順的女兒xiàoshùn de nǚ’ér
Raised to fight my sisters, fight myselfEmotions battered, bruisedNo marks left that anyone could…
silence
I see her in my mind sometimes,grown graceful in age, in acceptance,a gentle smile playing kindlyon her self-assured face
pledge
Child of six,small feeble and weak,refugee tonguedid she speak,
My memories are torture all ripped all torn
Tired of living ina netherworld of painlost and aloneno chance of any gain
Come sing to methe song of songsCome give to methe right of your wrongsCome gift me with your rightsto my wrongs