Octogenarian now, how well she writes,
My mother to me still, in her own hand!
The Scriptures, good advice, how well she cites!
Her old-aged pen serves like a fairy’s wand!
She has been doing thus for years and years;
Though old-aged, by sheer will-power she lives;
Tho’ slightly deaf and blocked by wax, her ears;
Her eyes see well! What advice she just gives!
Her only plea to me was to write back;
I used to visit her often, not now;
Of keeping children good, she had the knack;
She is my mother great who has such love.
God give her health of body, mind, I pray;
Indeed, she is my mother sweet, I say.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem