When I rested in my mother's womb,
The space within was my world;
Untouched by longings and cravings!
Happy was I until the call of the herald
Of maturity, of my shift to an infinite territory!
I knew not why when I first cried
My little world around rejoiced deeply.
And then I crawled, I walked, I ran
But I longed to be in her arms mournfully,
Craving to be cuddled in her embrace…
Rarely could I be with my mother, my creator
Except when darkness envelops deep,
For when the sun shines, she leaves.
And when she comes, I lay asleep.
For work, the little world around says, she goes.
Of care showered by a neighbor, my foster-mother,
Fatherless, I grow older amid tiny joys of affection
I hopped, I played, I screamed, I bawled naively
While children around, far and near, studied to perfection,
I yearned to be like them, to go to the house of knowledge.
I cried, I complained, my eyes open one night
Of sending me to school, she gave me hopes true.
She worked harder for shaping my dreams;
But fate has other plans, thus giving her a cue,
Of a prolonged illness, letting darkness prevail forever.
My little hands now geared up to toil for a living,
Will I, perhaps one day, give shape to my dreams?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A refined poetic imagination, Manoshi. You may like to read my poem, Love And Lust. Thank you.