Dearly I yearn for my mother’s bread,My mother’s coffee,Mother’s brushing touch.Childhood is raised in me,Day upon day in me.And I so cherish lifeBecause if I diedMy mother’s tears would shame me.Set me, if I return one day,As a shawl on your eyelashes, let your handSpread grass out over my bones,Christened by your immaculate footstepsAs on holy land.Fasten us with a lock of hair,With thread strung from the back of your dress.I could grow into godhood