My son,
I wanted you to grow
Now you have grown
But, I am afraid
You’ve grown too big
I wanted you praised
And, now you’ve been praised
But, I’m afraid
You’ve been praised too much
Now
With all this size
With all these praises
Will you hold yourself as you did yesterday?
Your mother.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem