My mother's arms when I was little
were soft and safe for baby sleeping;
my mother's touch when I was little
gave me the peace I always wanted.

My mother's eyes all filled with worries
are haunting me in days and nights. . .
I wonder why my mother loved me
and why she sacrificed herself?

There is no doubt she cared about me. . .
but still, no tears I have saved for her,
there is no doubt she loved to love me
although distress was all I gave to her.

Few things are left for me to say
'cause now I know it must be late
for all the sorrows I've made her cry
and for the love I always kept too deep inside. . .

Today, my mother's gone and took my heart with her.