How Many Times More

O, mother, you are drenched and bathed in your own sweat

How many times will you brush aside the twigs and leaves

Dropping pitar-potter

How many days will you hold my hand and drag me

Into the varanda from the courtyard,

Into the room from the varanda

How much more will you protect me yourself facing storms and rains?

O, mother, you are drenched and bathed in your own sweat

Now at least lose your hold and send me outside the main gate alone.