As I look into the shadow of mine,

I sometimes see an ordinary woman.

Who has a caring mother and a decent life.

 

Who eats

Who breaths

Who is not really different from anybody else.

 

As I look into a shadow of mine,

I sometimes see a strong,

independent woman.

 

Who is an aspiring leader at work

Who gallops on the top shelves

Who isn’t afraid of making mistakes

and who is superior to anybody else.

 

As I look into a shadow of mine,

I sometimes see a lame woman.

 

Who is crushed under all the burden

Whose efforts ended up in vain

Who is a creature dismissed even by herself

and who is inferior to anybody else

 

As I look into the shadows of mine,

I finally begin to realize:

Though some are taller,

and  some are shorter than me

And, 

Though some are even blurry,

They all are my shadows 

Some whisper the truth

Some mere illusions

Playing tricks on the canvas of reality.