My Mother Is Illiterate
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True, my mother is illiterate,
True, she is telling me why are you
Reading and writing, dear son, so much.
Go outside and study nature, see,
How the tree is growing and
How the flower is blossoming
They are all silently doing their
Respective works; the birds,
The animals, the air, the water,
The clouds, the sky, the sea.
None is innocent, dear son,
But excuse them all.
Forgive and forget everything
For the sake of life and living.
Bu şiiri puanla
Henüz puan verilmemiş