A Son
My dear child, a man you'll grow to be
And when that man sees his mother again
A mother to him I won't be
He, and all which make him
Are no longer a part of I
So the day you must up and leave
I dread spiritedly
And so for the time now
Mother will hold you most
For when you decide to grow
Her caress should stay with you for always
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem