Oh my children..;
Whom I did not giving birth
How you will grow up and become
More mature than the honey
In the heart of the flower? !
...
Oh my children
Whom are crossing the wave of my heart…
How can I be a sure that tomorrow…
Are no longer berserk like a wave
...
Oh my children
Whom will cross the life before aware that,
The earth which swallows us
Is narrower than river and rock!
And smaller than root and seed!
..
Oh my children
How to me, while, I am infected with blindness
And my light is Slim..
How I will prevent from your eyes the darkness? !
Real concern of a mother who always wants everything should go well with her children.Beautifully inked.loved it.Keep inking Fatima.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Great and mature poem like a ripe fruit that good in all tastes_Soul