By carrying me, the baby son on his shoulder
and driving the shoulder-chariot with a waned plow,
the eyes on the stepping feet,
taking care of me on his shoulder as his life,
In spite of the hardships that occurred
in his life as if walking on the sword,
My daddy is like a mother for the crops
by balancing the burden on the earth lands!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem