My Father...

I was on your palms, very small and quiet, While you were too tall for me to ascent, You were a cute playground with leggy slides, The bushy chest where I crawled as the new moth, Pulled your fashionable moustache and the, Once in a while beard with all my might, When we hit our heads repeating hit and hit, Played hide and seek after the hard work, You had woken me early morning to show, How to be faithful to the holy faith, After the bath in the cold running river, Carried me on your shoulder in the festival crowd, For me to have the great sight of real and surreal, Sent me to the school where the uniforms were worn, Taken me to the places, where only a few could go, Fed me with the food, full of goodness for the health, You were the born leader, led us in the right path, Though the nature had made you shorter, When we grow smarter and taller, Appa, you are too great and I have no words, To write down on the paper to reveal the meaning, For the toughest action of sacrifice, That was done with good will and love.