Orphaned, forsaken and disown destitute
Waited moaning, groaning and mute
Until the Touch Divine came to lift
From the listless lot, love bereft!
The dirty dismal hollow dust bin
For a moment sheltered without kith and kin.
Worldly mother had thrown disowning the child,
As the spiritual mother offered care mellow mild!
Canonized soul has power and will
Help and listen prayers still.
Did not the mother saintly say?
"Find this joy of sharing, you too may! "
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem