How sweet the word mother is!
How full of beauty reminding the Mother of Maxim Gorky,
You have made me indebted with the opportunity,
To myself in the light cleanse.
You are my pride,
My soul is not mine but yours,
Since it is the artifact of which you are the source,
Can you ever conceal affection? No you cannot hide.
I do not exactly know,
How to make you feel happy,
Is there really any possibility,
To compensate for all the hardships and agonies undergone by you?
Impossible is the answer,
Please forgive me for making you weep once in a while,
I can never forget the moment while I achieve something special,
You shed tears in ecstasy; your precious teardrops truly inspire.
I miss you mother believe me,
I know that I have not been a child perfect,
But that I love you so much is known to you, you cannot reject,
I promise mother I will try to make myself what you want me to be.
When I look
though these bars
of your design
when I feel the sun
though the window blinds
when I smell fresh air
when you open the door
I bow my head
and cry a little more
TAKE me to the stars, Mummy,
I need to find the moon.
Take me to the highest mountain.
Let me touch the clouds.
I need to see, to hear, to touch.
I need to find the moon.
Please, Mummy, take me to the stars.
I need to find the moon.
Take me to a cliff, sheer rock,
So I may smell the sea.
Let me fly with a gull's grace
Down to the mighty waves.
I need to see, to hear, to touch.
I need to find the moon.
Please, Mummy, take me to the stars.
I need to find the moon.
Take me to a forest, Mummy.
I need to breathe the air.
Give me eyesight of a tiger searching for its prey.
I need to see, to hear, to touch.
I need to find the moon.
Please, Mummy, take me to the stars.
I need to find the moon.
A mother rocked her dying child
And listened to her murmur.
"I'm sorry, Baby," she whispered softly.
"I can't take you to the stars."
But she didn't hear her mother's words,
For she had found the moon.