My mother and I lived
In a small town.
We had a small house
Which was half broken down.
She worked hard day and night
To make people`s gown.
My mother hoped to educate me
Like the people who had a better life than us.
She did not wish to see me
Like my father who drove a bus.
In spite of her hard-work and love,
I did not seem to care the least,
Though she was as white-hearted as a dove,
I behaved like a beast.
Now I lead a life of great sorrow
And wish my mother`s advice to borrow.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem