I never heard of my mother singing any song.
When the children sleep in the night and sing
I do not remember whether I ever woke up or not.
When the body does not come to its spring,
When he was in the storm, he used to mango gathering
Maybe even a song near the age of
In the evening, in the evening,
Lest the elders hear. And husband
Mother always came in my mother's house
It was silent, big and bigger. As far as
You know, Tappa did not notice him grab him
Some day Fish quota or yellow bowl spacing
Or move in the afternoon
Washed and cleaned
Slim in knitting, cloth hanging,
Rifu works in a torn shirt
Send me to the field of play
Whether to sing a song or not to sing a hammer
I'm so close but I did not know.
As if all the songs were saddened by a song in a wooden box
Lives are closed, life is not tune, only
Naphthalene intense scent comes out!
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