Let the sun not be harsh,
Let the clouds shade in between,
Let the mother earth bore good yields,
For it's your labor, materialize in fruits,
And your sweat, shining like pearl.
O my serving lord,
Never you ever mind,
Toiling soil for our good,
As if you caress your child,
Enjoying the tiny smile that's blind.
Not me not you but as we,
Finally make the true plea.
Shower o rain, with glee
For my lord is free,
Free to be farm marquis.
Farm o farm, you're blessed in hands of trust
For your Lord fails never to serve you best.
AD27022021
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem