My mother never spoke much-
she was too busy loving us.
Once in anger,
I pulled my mother's hair hard.
In pain, she immediately fainted.
When she woke up and opened her eyes-
she didn't speak.
She just smiled and kissed me sweet.
So much love she poured in my heart,
I still could not empty it.
© Arun Maji
Painting: Pino Daeni
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Mother is always busy loving her children. When children remember her with great emotion and care she gets heaven in hand. A beautiful poem on motherly affection is excellently penned...10