in the evening time
my mother so fresh
like a jasmine in bloom,
after a shower of rain,
the garden, gloriously coloured
where golden hands had touched.
her secret,
of secretly tending and nursing,
the sickly foliage'.
like a child with jaundice, come alive,
fresh with colour
that is my mother.
who gives joy to others, yet
she hides her pain,
in the fibre of her being,
unleashed when love pours forth!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Mmmmm! I can smell that jasmine..... Ritti the simile in the first stanza is stunning, Compering your mum with a jasmine shows how much you love her, respect her. The rest of the poem speaks about how special your mother is, a loving and giving person who always puts the needs of others first....her love of gardens and flowers must have past them on to you... Milica