The village head in his last stage of anus and intestinal cancer
came to our door one day
to apologize for hitting my mother
and hurting her arm five years ago.
My mother was still too angry
to let him come in.
Told him he could have killed her,
And his remorse would count a fart anyway.
Every time I hear mother mention
that enemy who went sick and died
I always imagine how he looks from behind,
silently walking away.
Then I tell mother,
you should forgive him.
Among all the bad people buried underground,
how many have apologized for their sins?
Tr. MW, December 2016