My land needs you,
And you have come alive.
I know, the language of this land
Makes you come alive.
I know you,
You are not lost
Pretending to be someone else,
But you are the real son of the soil.
I value you, on this land,
You are the truth.
Come on, my dear and utter,
The language in original voice,
That is your own and not others,
For the sake of your mother.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Identity is there in one's own language