From womb to tomb
She nourishes her seedlings
Waits for the seeds to be germinated
With love and care
Setting aside all her comfort
What she gets- a calculated sum
And gives away an infinite figure
For the well-being of her springs
And fellow feather
She is a Mother.
From daughter to darling
From wife to mother
Time changes her phase
Not her instinct color
She is a mother
As fountain from the mountain
Rushes from river to the sea
The mother in her goes
Accompanying she.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem