Your mother waits, heart-weary, at the door. Your child in hunger cries for its chewed rice. I feed your mother, serving as her son, and like a fathe… - Đặng Trần Côn

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Your mother waits, heart-weary, at the door.
Your child in hunger cries for its chewed rice.
I feed your mother, serving as her son,
and like a father teach your child to read.