'Can' you tell what is mother and her form?
Who reminds you doing thing's when you are wrong, , ,
Mother is the candle who burn herself;
to light our life
Mother hold you nine month's, with a pain and fights, , to bring you to the new life, , , , ,
Mother hides her pain from our life,
How the apple is cut by a knife
The apple cut and gives us taste, , , that's he feel her life is not waste,
Every one says that 'god' is best, , ,
But in my life my mother is best, , , , ,
I love you mother, , , , ,
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
a good poem of strong emotion and great imagery, Ali