It was the summer holiday.
We couldn’t close an eye.
Waiting for the ceremonies to begin,
the sun to thread its threads,
the newspaper to arrive.
The first to catch, the first to read.
Shah! Close your eyes, mother’s coming.
Everyone knew her place.
I used to make the breakfast.
Fried eggs, its smell penetrated my nose.
We gathered... talked... laughed,
The sunrise now... changed.
I’m their children’s aunt.
We can’t close an eye.
The sound of their children crying
penetrates my ears...
I’m still in the kitchen,
But this time, for their children.
it’s still the summer holiday...