With both my hands I took
A page out of your book
Did not take a second look
As I bid adieu to my own life.
Why are you cryin my little one?
My little, tulip, morning sun
Be brave, my price, my king
Walk a lonely road, you must
Don’t think ill of your mom
son, I never regret having you
Neither should you repent,
Being born in me.
Your mom tried,
Till dreams in her, dried
An I say this to you.
Now sleep my son,
Let me sing you
My last lullaby.
this is so beautiful jathin......it made me sigh..........well penned! !
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
i like this poem its sweet