First you endured birthday pangs so we could live,
let us rent your womb with every kick,
for all the harsh words in anger you still forgave,
you nursed our wounds and cared when we were sick.

Like a lioness working for your cubs,
showed us the way of the lamb is best for life to be led,
even when we stray you welcome us home again,
how could we ever recompense,
it will never make sense.

You raised us to stand on mountains,
to walk on stormy seas,
but we'd not be strong because we were on your shoulders,
you raised us up hoping the son would set us free.

Thank you for the love and the care,
merci ma mère.