Of heart and bosom I make
And of arms tender cradle
Many nights I pass awake
I must face a lot hurdles
Early arrive to vineyard
Still in work till sunset
To gain money it's so hard
From forehead flooding sweat
Barely satiate my little needs
My children I delegate
To capital for they read
Graduations I celebrate
I trust them to live away
See them every two weeks
Soul for them I would slay
For good deeds am not weak
All my income I do pay
I sell also my dear lands
Some are greedy like a bay
Accuse me of closed hands.
Saturday 7 June 2014
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
great poem! ! ! very well written