Your children are not your children
they are sons and daughters of life,
eager for themselves.
They don't come from you, but through you
and even if they are with you they do not belong to you.
You can give her your love
but not your thoughts, well,
they have their own thoughts.
You can warm their bodies
but not their souls, because,
they live in the house of tomorrow, which you cannot visit,
not even in dreams.
You can strive to be like them
but do not try to make them similar to you
because life does not go back,
nor does it stop at yesterday.
You are the arch of which, your children
like living arrows they are thrown.
Let the tilt
in your archer hand
be for happiness.
For although he loves
the arrow that flies,
he loves the stable bow in the same way.