My lovely mother
In the Mirror
In the mirror, I see my own image
Close to that of my lovely mother
Now is the time to create another face
And repair it from the ground
Charm the world like Shakespeare
Bless the mother with a womb
For hers is the baby
For whom she undergone a heavy pain
Thy mother’s love to baby is infinite
As the leaves fall and the winter begins
Mother’s love only grows to increase
Despite the wrinkles in her face
But if she lives longer than I
Remember me not
Die I shall single
And her image dies with me