A thousand sorrows that always come and go,

Yet, they never leave you silent in despair.

When failure looms in the distance, and suffering refuses to leave,

You never let it dishearten you.

My dearest mother, you are more than an inspiration.

In the early dawn, I always hear your sobs to the Almighty.

Before the morning light shows its face, your steps have already gone far.

Even when you're bloodied, stumbling, surrendering—yet rising again,

You take a breath once, then work tirelessly through the day,

All to turn countless coins into a single meal.

Mother taught me that \"the most beautiful roses always have thorns.\"

Though pain comes relentlessly,

With countless wounds, insults, and scorn piercing the heart,

You remind me of the happiness that will come to visit,

Sending endless smiles, weaving the joy of true love.