Dedicated to mothers

To you who are a woman
To you who are a mother.
To you prodigious woman, who generates life.
Not all women have this privilege,
But God has been pleased with you.
Mother is not all women
Mother is one who values her life in her womb.
You are the charm of multiplication.
In you the womb is fertile
In you life is possible on the planet.
You are blessed among many
and you enjoy the prestige of the gift of life.
Women who have children are happy.
Those who carry life in the womb will rejoice.
The unfortunate ones cry and
His crying is sterile.
The desolate ones cry
And the woman cries without fruit.
Life seems incomprehensible,
But you are blessed.
Virtuous mother with wisdom
Your grace on happiness passes.
Your arms have the footprints of your son
And your breasts the burning of breastfeeding.
There is human warmth in your arms
And your son makes it his delight.
He who was a child has grown up
And he suckled your breasts.
He has grown the one who stole your dreams
And the pain of sacred childbirth.
He now he is a handsome young man.
He is too much for the maidens.
You can't stop seeing him as a child,
You still remember his first steps.
Time took away his childhood
And now he is a teenager.
You spoil him so much that you don't accept his youth.
He will soon be an adult
He will soon be the noblest of your memories.
Your white hair reveals your old age
And you still think your son hasn't grown up.
You are a mother of tenderness
And mother of much sweetness.
The past was trapped in your arms
And in your face an uncertain future.
Life rewards you as a mother of generations.
Brave and unforgettable woman.

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