Each night before to bed, prayer to God she says:
Protect my children from troubles likely to face...
One night I said to her: they are no more infants
Able to take care where they live; grown ups
A smile so sweet and soft I found bloom on her face
Signal not strange to me when she presents her case!
‘Grown ups who? You n’ me the children, no’ she mused:
‘All infants to Him who protects, begin to end’
She doesn’t read too much or poems none she writes
I submit all my whims before my wisdom wife...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem