TO A PICTURE OF MY MOTHER
Your picture is so calm. You are other:
Proud, a bit, and embarrassed at being - my mother.
Accompanying me with a tear and a yielding smile
You never ask: "Who?"
You never wondered, never raged, when I came
To you daily demanding: "I need!"
With your own hands you gave all
Only because I am - me.
More than I, you remember today
My childhood's sorrows, and what your soul knew then:
The day your grown daughter would come to you,
She would bring with her grief that had grown up too.
Yes. I'll come broken, and not ask how you are.
I'll not cry in your arms, not whisper: "Mama!"
You'll know then:
He who left me was dearer to me than you,
And you'll never ask: "Who?"
Your picture is so calm. You are other:
Proud, a bit, and embarrassed at being - my mother.
Accompanying me with a tear and a yielding smile
You never ask: "Who?"
You never wondered, never raged, when I came
To you daily demanding: "I need!"
With your own hands you gave all
Only because I am - me.
More than I, you remember today
My childhood's sorrows, and what your soul knew then:
The day your grown daughter would come to you,
She would bring with her grief that had grown up too.
Yes. I'll come broken, and not ask how you are.
I'll not cry in your arms, not whisper: "Mama!"
You'll know then:
He who left me was dearer to me than you,
And you'll never ask: "Who?"
IMAGINII MAMEI MELE
Lea Goldberg (1911, Königsberg, Lituania - 1970 Ierusalim)
Traducere Getta Neumann
Imaginea ta este atat de senina. Esti altfel :
Mandra un pic si jenata ca esti - mama mea.
Insotindu-ma cu o lacrima si un suras supus
Niciodata nu ma vei intreba : « Cine ? »
Nu te-ai mirat, nici nu te-ai infuriat vreodata cand veneam
Spre tine zi de zi cerand : « Da-mi ! »
Totul mi-ai dat, cu propriile tale maini
Doar pentru ca eu eram - eu.
Mai bine decat mine iti amintesti si azi
De tristetile copilariei mele si sufletul tau stia deja atunci :
Ziua in care va veni la tine fiica ta matura,
Cu sine va aduce durerea ei care s-a maturizat si ea.
Da. Am sa vin infranta si nu voi intreba cum iti merge.
Nu voi plange in bratele tale si nici nu voi suspina : « Mama ! »
Vei sti :
Cel care m-a parasit mi-era mai drag decat tine
Si nu ma vei intreba : « Cine ? »
Lea Goldberg (1911, Königsberg, Lituania - 1970 Ierusalim)
Traducere Getta Neumann
Imaginea ta este atat de senina. Esti altfel :
Mandra un pic si jenata ca esti - mama mea.
Insotindu-ma cu o lacrima si un suras supus
Niciodata nu ma vei intreba : « Cine ? »
Nu te-ai mirat, nici nu te-ai infuriat vreodata cand veneam
Spre tine zi de zi cerand : « Da-mi ! »
Totul mi-ai dat, cu propriile tale maini
Doar pentru ca eu eram - eu.
Mai bine decat mine iti amintesti si azi
De tristetile copilariei mele si sufletul tau stia deja atunci :
Ziua in care va veni la tine fiica ta matura,
Cu sine va aduce durerea ei care s-a maturizat si ea.
Da. Am sa vin infranta si nu voi intreba cum iti merge.
Nu voi plange in bratele tale si nici nu voi suspina : « Mama ! »
Vei sti :
Cel care m-a parasit mi-era mai drag decat tine
Si nu ma vei intreba : « Cine ? »