I am a mother and I know, <br />My child, <br />When and why calls me, <br />What makes him weep, <br />And what makes him smile, <br />When he takes respite, <br />And how he giggles. <br /> <br />I am a mother and I know, <br />But when he will be grown up, <br />He will disclose his heart, <br />And sometime conceal the truths <br />Assuming <br />That the mother is ignorant of all, <br />Being at home what will she know, <br />He will come home late devising pretexts, <br />And at that moment, <br />I knowing all will show indifference, <br />For it is the nature of mother. <br /> <br />How can my son know, <br />That motherhood passes through <br />His veins in the form of blood, <br />If he gets a prick of thorn the mother tosses, <br />Where ever he goes, <br />He remains cosseted amid, <br /> The invincible siege of prayers, <br />He remains in the heart of mother. <br />Whenever he steps ahead, <br />And wherever he goes <br />The Anchal of cool shadow <br />Remains with him, <br />I am a mother and I know him all. <br /> <br />By Fakhira Batool Translated By Muhammad Shanazar<br /><br />Muhammad Shanazar<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/i-am-a-mother-3/
