I was fifteen years of age,
When I used to bake a special cake.
My parents were both proud of me
'Cause they increased their food intake.
They told me in cooking, I was a good pupil.
Especially when they weren't feeling well.
Then to make things very special,
I gave them their favorite red wine
And buy them new dresses for a dine.
Baking and cooking
Became my usual habits
As a child that was growing.
Through these simple things and acts,
I felt the love by my parents.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem