Frail winds now blow
through my sun and it is a struggle to speak
thoughts which i lay to rest
to cover your clean cotton shield.
Sadness is mine woman yet when you touch
me the sandy pearl upon your finger tip still shines
with all your might soft song on mine do master it's glow.
The many mother still linger aside the few, why
do some still count the small trees deep within
your foggy glade..my mother..why?
Upon me your gaze when it rains your streams
still run thick..as you stoop and count your fish.
Still mother I strain to provide now the seed to
fill your land that you struggled to plow so free
of stone..mother..why?
Because you love me when you come in.You
love me mother, when you come in and cover
your friend in need and hold him untill he's still.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
a beautiful poem that speaks of your home and feelings, held deep now spoken to the world. a comfort