Lyric

Famous in Edo

A poor row house

She carries five children

A daughter, the youngest, just seven years old

Living in a cramped row house

Though neighbors speak ill of her

And everyone despises her

She never stops helping others—

That’s the kind of mother she is

Her back tells no stories

For it is meant to carry her children

Even to a thief, she offers a bowl of rice

Believing that a full stomach

Can change a person

She skips meals to save money

Rents homes for others

In her narrow row house

She stretches not even her legs

That’s the kind of mother she is

"Never speak ill of your parents

Even if they strip their own skin

It’s to do something for their children

That’s what it means to be a parent."

Be it the poor or the wealthy

A parent’s feelings are the same

Though there are limits to what they can do

Never put them into categories

That’s what

Mother taught us

Late into the night

She stitches and mends

Diligently saving every coin

Even a rare bowl of noodles

Brings her joy

In the eyes of the world

They call her greedy and selfish

Yet still, she endures

Her back is rounded

From carrying children

A round back suits her

A cheerful soul

Yet she often weeps

Her sides hold space

To embrace others warmly

She accepts even strangers

Making no distinctions

To her, everyone is her child

So she scolds

She praises

She cries with others

And she celebrates with them too

If life becomes overwhelming

Forget the present for a while

Look back

And you’ll see the strength of Edo mothers

Unshakable and bold

She hides her struggles from others

But shares her joys freely

She doesn’t smile all the time

But she always brings smiles to others

That’s

Her way of life

In the face of fate

There’s no distinction between rich or poor

When you consider all the ties we share

There are no strangers—

Only family

She gives freely

Never stingy

Never critical

Every moment

Is irreplaceable

That’s her way of living

Always needed by someone—

That’s who she is

Her back continues to bend

Under the weight of the children she’s carried

Her heart always speaks to us

Telling the tale of a mother

A story that will always be heard