I've got the floor to mop
The grocery to shop
The meat to fry
The pulses to dry.
I've got my time to feed
The botany to weed
Then the kids to tend,
And the clothes to mend.
Then to serve the sick
The grains to pick,
These shirts to be pressed
Little tots to be dressed.
And the onions to cut
I gotta tidy up this hut.
Sunshine, pebbles, clouds, oceans, rivers, rain, stars, moonlight, mountains,
Which are the supernatural creations,
These are all that I can call my own!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem