Mom by Hristo Fotev translated by Ann Wood
Mom,don't get old, please - and never
don't believe in the day of the mirror.
Look into my eyes constantly.
Resist your sadness.
He struggles desperately for his health.
And please protect your soul
from the wrinkles, from the sand of time.
Don't say it's vanity - sometimes
make your lips freshen up ...
I love you Mom!
Poetry by Ann Wood
Read 318 times
Written on 2020-03-11 at 18:25
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