Mother - by
All this last week I have been thinking
of my mother, thinking of her taking
up in her arms the creaking basket
of clothes, without pausing, up to the attic.
All this last week I have been thinking
of my mother, thinking of her taking
up in her arms the creaking basket
of clothes, without pausing, up to the attic.
The sky has shut its eyes of blue,
/ the house has shut its many eyes,
/ the meadow sleeps with quilt up too…
Ha egyszer majd számonkéri tőled,
/ akitől semmiképp se várnád,
/ hogy mért nem volt titkos életed,
/ nem foghatod rá senkire.
/
/ Nem az agyadra gondol ő…