Drops are sheding.Mother is weeping.
Honest, honest, no cunning,
Mother is about to leave,
Allah guard her and save.
Happy, she is visiting the holy house,
Sweet words fly from her mouse.
Mother! Don't weep,
For your Farwell, I can't sleep,
I can't bear your drops,
Having white heart, no gossips.
Your golden hear has no envy.
Kissing you! oh Accept my delivery.
You 'll go to the holy land,
For your longing, I can't stand,
Allah give her blessing,
For your manner, I'm tracing.
I 'm waiting for your coming,
For your face. I 'm dreaming.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem