A child
Grew up
To be a man;
And donned
The cap
Of an expert on
Children’s ailments.
Dressed in white,
He taught the art
To medicos right,
From the start.
And now,
He’s touched years
Sixty-seven;
Wizened and wise,
Still, first to rise!
He’s spick and span;
A perfect man;
With rosy hue;
Talks to a few.
He walks by march;
His food is starch;
He keeps his word,
And loves the curd.
He sings ‘slokas’;
He loves ‘vikas’;
He cooks his food;
Rarely is off-mood!
His voice is low;
All student bow;
He teaches well;
And is never ill.
He does the job
that’s him, assigned;
He’as worked so well,
and now resigned.
Being an ex-
Air Force person,
He’s so perfect
for that reason.
I salute him,
With reverence,
For common sense,
And his prudence.
God bless his life;
God spare him strife;
God give him years
Of joy, with dears.
And now,
In his second childhood,
He is just,
One year old!
(9-20-2007/Fondly dedicated to Dr.N. Ramachandran MD. DCH
Formerly HOD of Paediatrics & DS IRT PMC & H, Perundurai.)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem