Hooria
Grandma
I talk regardless
You left for his sake
You left your parents.
How can I accept their comments?
How can I get along with these ostriches?
Sand is plenty in desert…
And snow for the partridge…
You left for his sake
You left your parents.
But those who name their daughters after you
Know nothing this fact; are blind
They are ostriches
Partridges
Sand is plenty in desert…
And snow for the partridge …
It is as if I am the only one to admire
The lioness…the tiger…the eagle
In you
That departure made you grandma
For me.
Grandma
I talk regardless
You are the only angel.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem