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When I was born
I placed a new salt of life to my home
At least,the flattery were gone
And the native joy comes home
Like visions in a dream
While I could plainly show it with a scream
Now that one family derives a long chin of laughter
Burn the medicine pot
Make no disagreeable mixture
For my son laid on the cot
He is me in picture
From the angels in human form
A feature without a deform
Whence i saw nothing but happiness
A baby arrives
Its my baby, our baby
Upon my milk, he survives
From the hungers that may be
In his wanderings in between lands
His fate,are all in my hands.
