Oh mother bosom, holding your child
Yours arms, like a nest of warm cuddles.
Cast shadows, the heaven cool shade
Your words, hungry, fed of sour milk and sore
Trapped, pouring into empty stomachs
Embrace humanity- poverty
That the hearts of people, leisure devours.
The rich fantasy of your child
That embraces childhood games of spice.
Where life dwells.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A great heart toucing poem.