This is my father
He broke stones lifelong
For educating me
In summer vacations
I too went to the quarry
And prayed a stone god
Beside our thatched hut
For good grades
One day I asked my father
Why he didn't worship
Any stone god
To my surprise, he retorted
Which god? Of that stone?
No! I don't do that at all
You know I broke stones
Enough to make a mountain
Bu in no stone I found a god
And from the moment
I quit the idolatry for keeps
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
good writing, I like it, thanks. please read my poems and comment.