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Rated: E · Poetry · History · #2247819
The best regarded mother. Not comparable with human race.
Yashoda is a mother and a wife
And she does her duties exceptionally well
She sometimes even risk her life
To protect her sons and her husband.

She sells milk and other dairy products
Home made with love and affection
She is also the lady village head so she conducts
Every activity too gracefully and brilliantly

She is not afraid of anything except her son
For she often receives his complains
That he had stolen 'makhan' for fun
And have broken mud vessels of young girls

She has to handle her son while doing daily tasks
And raise her other elder son, Balram.
She once out of curiousity asks,
"O my dear son Kanha, when will you mend your ways?"

His son replies,"O mayya, I will improve as soon as you get me my bride,
Who is beautiful than the moon goddess
And ready to become my pride.
Please get me a bride as early as possible."

Yashoda laughs at his innocent words
She looked at his naive small face and replied,
"I will find you a little bride, first you go and look at the herds
Feed them food and get their milk."

Like this she daily encounters such innocent show
She gets the pleasure that is most sweet in the world
And to this pleasure the whole world bow.
She is not just an ordinary mother.

She has sons like Krishna and Balram
She is the epitome of patience to raise sons like them
Her sons are the most dauntless ones whom we dedicate Psalm
I bow to them, I bow to Yashoda.

Poet's note


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