End of school, books stacked
just in the shed behind the house
and my desk will be full of new books.
Mother, this year I have learned the art of paper folding
a form of swans, boats, dolls to flower.
The books in the warehouse, I want to make it
bloom or flower buds.
My friends invited to play marbles and hide and seek
wait for me to say, I have not finished folding the paper.
They say it's not school time, no duty
do not know that this is not a task, but I just
Want to give you a gift, to you Mother
and all its beauty is just for you, that's it.
Indeed, this flower is not as sweet as jasmine
not too colorful like magnolia.
But accept this paper, Mother.
For this flower is science
which will never wither, fall and then disappear.
At the end of school, books are stacked
just in the shed behind the house
I made it bloom and bloom.