The one who introduced this world to me
It's God's face, in her I can see
My life, I owe to her
The one who never hesitated, sufferings to bear
Yes, she's my mother
A 'devi' in a 'being', rather.
Ask the east the beauty of the sun
When it rises kissing the hills, at the dawn;
Ask the west about the setting sun, which brought it fame.
The answer is obvious and the same,
It shall be also my reply
About my mother, the most beautiful one, deserves to be praised sky-high.
With a common green sari even,
She gathers in herself the whole of the heaven
She, a Hindustani woman, my dear mother
Her moral principles, can never be compared to any other
Her cradle song, the sweetest of all,
I remember till today, as a teenage girl.
Her soft voice and pleasing smile, I always cherish
"O that time would never pass!" I always wish.
Only can the East describe
The beauty of the sun, the best
Only can the darkness imbibe
The feel of light, in the west.
More beautiful than the setting sun,
More beautiful than the autumn m o r n ,
Prettier than any blossoming flower,
Fresher than any light freshening shower,
That's how, to me, my mother is
Her beauty I can describe with the greatest ease.
As to a candle the flame is
As to a day the sun is
My real identity she is.
Her desires have always been few,
To fulfill my wants that ever grew
She took me to the real world where I now live
From the misleading world of make-believe.
How satisfying, serene, and pure a feeling it's
That the word 'mother' creates.....
The presence of her
Really makes life secure.