She, who has mastered a peculiar art
Discern my problems distinctly afar!
And stands against it, as mighty as a wall
Always with her 'yes' at my call.
Till she is alive, what makes me fear!
Is as' am growing young: she older!
Seeing me in deep concern she says,
'Don't worry! With God I'll bargain,
Choicest blessings onto you sprinkle as rain'.
Listen her pitying much! ! !
My eyes get filled and she shelter me under the relief of aanchal!
Oh the peace! The contentment! I get nowhere!
Let me wash her feet and drink the holy nectar.
She does like anything keenly care
Her beautiful love with me only share!
As if, who rather than me deserve?
Getting it from my mother, she is very dear.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem