Altruism of the angels,
Beauty of a bouquet, born of the choicest flowers from the Garden of Eden,
Cascade of celestial charm,
Dear darling Mother,
This is me, your labour of love.
Your love-raptured lullabies,
I hear from this dark dome of your weary womb.
Your loving lap,
Awaits patiently, the warmth of my feeble feet.
I swim soberly in endless nothingness,
Waiting to be held in your hallowed hands,
As you pour over me, the lasting love of a countless centuries.
Dear darling mother,
Will I ever be able to repay, the debts of the petulant pain I’ve put you through?