假如我变成了一朵金色花，为了好玩， 长在树的高枝上，笑嘻嘻地在空中摇摆，又在新叶上跳舞，妈妈，你会认识我吗？ 你要是叫道：“孩子，你在哪里呀？”我暗暗地在那里匿笑，却一声儿不响。
当你吃过午饭，坐在窗前读《罗摩衍那》，那棵树的阴影落在你的头发与膝上时， 我便要将我小小的影子投到你的书页上， 正投在你所读的地方。但是，你会猜得出这就是你孩子的小小影子吗？
If I become a Champa flower, just for fun, long in the higher branches of the trees, and shook in the wind with laughter, and in leaves dance on, mother, would you know me? If you call way: "children, where are you?"I'd smile secretly over there, without making a sound.
I want to open huabaner quietly, watching you work.
When after your bath, wet hair in two shoulders, through the shadow of the champa tree, go to pray the small courtyard, you will notice the scent of the flower, but not know that it came from me.
When you eat lunch, sat at the window reading "" the Ramayana, and the tree's shadow fall on your hair and your lap, I will put my small shadow to the page of your book, just put in where you read.But, would you guess that it was the tiny shadow of your little child?
When in the evening you took light to the barn, I will suddenly drop on to the earth, and be your own baby, beg you to tell me a story.
"Where have you been, you naughty child?"
"I don't tell you, mother."This is what you and I would say then.