Seasons come and seasons go;
Colors have to change.
All I see, you standing tall
as time has its cards to play.
In your shade, I found my life,
and many youngn’s have played.
Your nursing branches bend,
keep bending you more, everyday.
True say man, “a tree shall bend
filled with fruits, day by day”.
But you shall, be tall
Oh! My mother stay with me always.
'17th June,2007'
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Gaurav nice poem I enjoyed it