I miss my mother, I saw it in my dream I laid out my childhood years, I saw my sister relative in my dreams, I had dreams with my mother.
Once I was small, I ran, I got tired When I saw my mother, I hugged I grew up by his prayer My mother’s prayer came to my heart.
My mother is not afraid, she lived alone at home, He used to run to us for my son, If I were sick, I would love to caress, My mother’s hands came to my heart.
He suffered a lot and was very patient, Your servitude to Mawla has made complete, He sent him to the school and prayed, My mother’s meal came to my heart.
No illiterate does every job, He reads my heart and makes his way Four boys line a girl, My mother’s roses came to my heart.
He lived for all these years, never complained, He spent patiently and lived strangely, He did not put the lie to the heart, My mother’s remembrance came to my heart.
It does not hurt anyone, your heart does not pollute, Neighbors don’t leave their homes without food, He loves children, does not have pocket money, My mother’s holiday has come to my heart.
If I had a number, if I had a hug, My mother calls him a sacrifice on his way, Let your name put your heaven, Hak Rahman, My mother’s afterlife came to my heart.
11.04.2019 // KIRIKKALE HÝDAYET DOÐAN
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(c) Bu şiirin her türlü telif hakkı şairin kendisine ve/veya temsilcilerine aittir.