Still the pain is on his forehead;
are they wet their eyes still;
as if they were shadows
that it fall from the East.
Flee the storms of my mind
When the fingers of his cold hand
it sinks, trembling in the mane of mine
and loving her they fluffed softly.
She is the star of my eternal night;
its clean light within me,
expands, expands, expands
as the ray of the Sun in the cave.
I love her! her I love without measure,
with a love like no
big, big, big!
When he gave me life.

By...Julio Florez - Colombian poet


I pray before thee, drop in hinojos
that don't cry for me,
My love
my sweet charm,
not burned to reduce the spoils
the heart that laceró the breakdown.
Rather lose its light my poor eyes,
If you have seen in your sad crying;
lluevan thousand anger on my chest
with them penaré but not so much.
Just my worm-eaten existence
sends it a tenacious and strong, pain
or more cruel martyrdom, dear mother.
more happy, without crying, can have you,
that die without your sentence would be life,
and live with your tears is death.

By...Elisa Eguez
Taken from page poems for MOM

resource: mothers day poems

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