In her scream, she hears its cry
In her pangs her dolor fade
She says in joy Alas! Alas for her dream alas
To suckle she prepares herself
No pain to come from that at least
But boundless love from sources unknown
Great interpreter we hail thee
The sound of tears you read
And know what each connotes
Your kind is rare to find
Your qualities are ever scarce
But to every mum that be
Your praise I ever sing.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem