How many women have trodden this earth?
Earth, a stage for tales of joy and woe,
How many women have given birth?
In every birth, a scene of new hopes grow.

Holding the baby, rich emotions flow
A tender, precious bud on life’s vast tree,
Yet death whispers softly, beckoning so,
Pater holds the keys to power and history.

Oh, women fair, the muses of these lines,
Whose strength and grace does shape the world’s design,
Resilient they bear the weight of their daily grind,
Sturdy the baby bud will grow just fine.

On this earthly stage, women’s lives matter,
Say goodbye pater, say goodbye pater.