The dawn each day without thy prayers, does not arise.
O, how lovely the roses envy thy beauteous youth
But little are they compared to thy worth in thy daughter's eyes
For sweet looks sweet but sweeter is you!
My heart robes thy hurt and thy love
All thy ache and thy pain, capsuled in words
It thinks how gently you pray in tears and all
Just to buy me a window for a better world.
Sometimes though, you were tough, as hell as you can
That I mistook you for the enemy, a sworn predator
But all times you have been a wife, and a mother
One whose teachings, made me into a young beautiful woman.
So spare me, sweet may look sweet but sweeter is you
And beauty, though beauteous is nothing than thy worth
When men shall scorn, this verse shall distill thy truth
For truly all beaut shall fade but thy words shall not.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem