Short single plaited of her curly locks
Tall, simple, draped with six yards
Queenly significant, nightingale voiced
Pretty enough to be admired
Mamma is ever my first goddess
Her veneration with high ideals
Her composure with amiable qualities
Have lasting records filling up my mind
I'm her disciple, well tuned
No doubt, mamma is ever my first goddess
Home, like a choultry of many numbers
With increasing population of naughty kids
Of aunts, uncles and even grand-parents
Issued year by year without any pause
Challenge! caring for her own kids
Nursing others', serving the elders
Cooking for the battalion the food
In huge vessels with more heed
Great, mamma is ever my first goddess! !
Very good poem and lovely tribute to 'Mama' - I like your style....
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
a lovely write... i thought of my mom...they were all in one...home makers..great cooks... they were like roots to a family...great poem