A part of me greyish; most of it pink,
With the warmth of your closeness.
My soul and heart whisper to me
“all is well”
I’m growing tired, weary, waiting
The most intense pain, yet so much joy,
You bring to this world; I’m elated.
My acquaintances and beloved say to me,
“such rare beauty”
For the bud has bloomed
In my nothingness, you have everything; blessed,
For society defined me as not rich, not wealthy.
As you leave me to explore, I say to you
“be contented child”
For the flower needs peace
Fiery encounters; only glory does attract
Others to you. They speak of your confidence-maturity too;
Only they can never tell of your sobbing tales for me,
“learnt from mistakes”
You say, as you, my flower, is tended to.
(A story of my mama to me, I love you mama! I will hold this dear)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem