Grandma Poem by Afrooz Jafarinoor
Grandma
My hands smell of soil
I buried a part of my life
Memories of both love and strife
I buried a part of my soul.
Expected or not
Grandma's home cannot
Any guests admit
As in the yard there is not
A shade to sit,
Or a tree with fruit to eat
And there are no flowers to pick!
The trip is over and I'm back
Tired and still unable
To rest for tommorrow's toil;
My hands smell of soil.
A lovely poem that is loaded with love and loss!
I've just sent you a msg.. along with the Italian translation of your poem ''Grandma'' Fabrizio
it could be a poem to translate in Italian.. should you agree
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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10/5/2024 2:09:03 AM # 1.0.0.1119
My hands smell of soil I buried a part of my life Memories of both love and strife I buried a part of my soul. Verily, a fine expression