Oh! dearest, dearest darling son,
Serve thy parents as morning Sun,
With all thy heart and all thy soul,
Till they reach their final goal.
Thy parents blood and thine one,
Is not different, but same and one,
Thine own blood if you could not please,
Then what way could you God appease?
Till that time they are alive,
In serving them you be alive,
By this way if you care to strive,
To kiss thy foot will heaven strive.
In serving parents who is slow,
To Makka, Kashi, let him go,
Till death in prayers let him bow,
His efforts all will random go.
A plea to the younger generations. Will they hear? Will they discard the traditions that have bound generation after generation to the respect and care of the generations preceding? How can tradition compete with the social influences that are so ubiquitous and invasive? Much is changing; much is gained, and much is lost.
Dear Anwar. Thankyou for posting this reminder to us all. Parents are our greatest gift and we would be nowhere without them. I count myself blessed to have my own. Beautifully written.
Thank you poet for conveying a great message to our sons and daughters through such a beautifully rhymed poem. (10)
In serving parents who is slow, To Makka, Kashi, let him go, Till death in prayers let him bow, His efforts all will random go.
In serving parents who is slow, To Makka, Kashi, let him go, Till death in prayers let him bow, His efforts all will random go. Beautiful. Great write.
Great poem, Anwar. I love the message. Congrats on having this poem chosen as 'POD'. Well deserved.
Yeah, so long as they alive it is the son's duty to serve them. A nice message for all. Thanks for sharing and Congrats.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Congratulations on Member Poem of the Day! A good reminder that children should honor their parents (and vice-versa) .