Mom Poem by Mohammad Mohi Uddin

Mom, why is your son that much egotistic?
Going to catch the sky, irresponsibly looking up,
eventually - bought up the touch of a century; entire emptiness.

Perhaps some people choose up self-written perishable flood,
hence, I inundated the whole of mine in the pleasant swamp.

Flying clouds as many flies, the river is their destination.
With touchiness, relief--
extended hands to soothing water,
to the whole grassland of the earth.

Claimed healing into the beauty of poetry,
excavated the heart through the speech of prayer,
In the last part of the path, the yellow envelope of dejection on my hand!

Why does egotism become so long in the fugacious life?
For what It's like ice?
Melting inside of mine gradually;
How does such a flame of water fire up in the frame of soil?

What kind of sight of touchiness; cries out at the distance of distance?
Who says; sulks, pushes away, It's the bridge of reunion;

Look, Mom! Burning himself in the sun, how silent the boy was at the end of the day;
Takes shelter in the shadow of you as decent weeds.