Oh! My Mother,
What shall I write about you?
For you are the person,
Whose work cannot be easily defined.
No one other than you,
Can bear the pain of giving birth.
No one can do things that you do,
For nurishing and growing your child.
This whole Nation withstands,
On your teachings to your child.
Never you become surly or wild,
And for your children you are kind.
Let the condition be any,
You are greater than many.
Your love can save your child,
From any evil.
Service of even Hundred births,
Cannot repay your doings.
I can just say that,
You are god for any child.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem