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Chandra Kafle Poem
Father’s Dream
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The dream is truly dear,
Yet so difficult to fulfill.
My father would sit
in the courtyard,
and say with content in his words,
with a blush of satisfaction,
“I will make my son study, write,
and grow into a virtuous child.”
I cannot avoid the walls made of mud,
the thatched roof is fine,
In the dark room,
I look here and there,
take a deep breath,
No chimney is needed,
When my son smiles,
the home appears bright.
“My child,” he would say,
“I have nurtured a boundless dream.
Not a house of gold and silver,
but fields full of grain,
Not flowers in pots,
but crops in the farmland,
Not velvet from Banaras,
but a quilt of cotton to cover,
I will cultivate the magical orchard,
I will bear golden fruits,
If you study well,
and move slowly forward, that will suffice.
I will sweat, I will blister my hands,
If you watch with your heart, that is enough.
Do not sow lies on paper,
Do not empty your bag of honesty,
My great dream
is you:
To become the medicine for the sick,
To be food for the hungry,
To be a parent for the orphaned,
To support the elderly,
Encouraging them,
I will hold your hand,
Show you the path.
My son,
you must fulfill
this father’s
dream.”
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Via : online Khabar Nepal
Author : Chandra Kafle
Copyright © Chandra Kafle | Year Posted 2025
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