My Mother 3-volume

3. Am I destined to face calamity, Or is it my cursed fate, a harsh reality? At ten years old, I met the old man once more, At the gates of paradise, as I stood unsure. At ten, we thought we were fearless and bold, Driving sheep into water, braving the cold. We caught the sheep as they swam in the deep, One by one, we plunged them without a peep. Amidst this frantic and reckless play, A lamb stepped onto me, I began to sway. No time to retreat, no way to escape, Their hooves scratched my back, my body agape. Countless hooves trampled above my head, I struggled below, feeling almost dead. Then he appeared—the same old man— His white staff creaked as he took a stand. "Here I am again, my child," he said, "I’ve come to guide you where angels tread. Paradise awaits, your place is set, But your mother is not there yet." "I won't go, not without my mother," I cried, "Grant me life once more," I desperately replied. "Show me a way out of this watery grave, I feel I still have the strength to be brave." Just then, a crack of light appeared, I reached for it, though I trembled and feared. Breaking the surface, gasping for air, I grabbed a sheep and held it there. Reaching the shore, I collapsed and fell, Drained and shaken, I couldn’t tell. But once again, my mother’s care, Had saved me from death lurking near.