My son is like me
And nothing new
In telling these words.
The colour of my blood
And that of yours
Are the same, nothing new.
We, both are here and
Going on the same path,
Nothing new, but new is
Our movement and
Our purpose of going
With multi-coloured task.
No match there, but
Let me say we are one..
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem