The big red apples were sweet,
Each one was assigned by father;
New garment was warm plaid coat,
Each set was arranged by mother.
Father became like the year end, has faded. Mother in picture's in each one, she's flattered. Green apples, and red one's from a tree they once planted.. iip
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Love! With your parents guiding you on. Nice work.