For father so marooned you in the island of widowness
And boarded the train of death to a place of the unknown
Then you were water that purls in a river of life
That meanders through reals of pain
Then started a gory ferocious war of blisters and sweat
Between poverty and your hands
You kept us, mama as an apple of your eye
Oh! Does not a dove hunt for viands for her nest?
Oh! Does not a cow lower for her calf?
Though poverty devoured the fat of your sacrifices
You harvested life even out of thorns

Like an eagle that stirs up its eyrie
And flutter over its young
Unfurling out its wings, catching them
Bearing them on its pinions
And the zephyrs of your mercy winnowed off
The chaff of sombreness from our souls

Oh! Mama
If only your agony could be put on a scale
Forsooth, it would outweigh the sand of the sea
Your cheeks became drunk with tears
The covalent bond between bitterness and you soul

Then courage found solace in the marrow of your bones
And endurance flowed its current through your veins
And like a stone, so hard became your heart
As you raised us under the shield of the wing of your care