GREETINGS TO MY MOTHER

While you examine and carefully weigh the affairs of the soul. You are as pure and elusive as the word around the golden axis of thought, which never names you. You have worked for a lifetime from dawn to dusk, and yet, after so much suffering, you always wanted to put it right , which can still be on this blind star.

You framed my eyes with your face, my mother peeled and robbed from the placenta-womb of your attraction, your unwisely guilty son; you were the first to comfort me in my bawling cries because you took care of me.

Alas, I can never forget, with a soul pregnant with nightmares at night, when I was scared by monsters and lead ores, it was you who quickly ran into my nursery and caressed my panting head like a baby doll.

Alas, I will never forget how you went on foot to get medicine in the icy, devastating Zhivago storms when I became sick. I can never forget the sound of your typewriter, the sea-deep world of silence around you. Oh, I can never forget you standing there in the pretty red hat in the mirror, like the lady with the camellias. It would be so good to discover the lights of reassurance in your all-seeing eyes again. In the midst of grinding days, your words move mountains.

Tireless, you have won and not the years, and their nails flash and carve fine scratches on your face - because even now, look, you run, bring wood: you don't have a single minute free, you divide yourself between the false world and me. I remember: as a grumpy child with a stomach ache, you told stories by my bed in the evenings, wraiths were shooting outside and Winter was raging. You knew: if you are an Angel, then maybe I can survive the night.

Thanks for! If it weren't for you, my mother, who would I quarrel with, who would I complain to?! But you are here: I filter the light between my fingers, may pink hyacinth fly to you as a joyful message!

But now, at least for one day, forget things, troubles, worries and problems; lift to the people with weightless wings. My peaceless, separate peace loneliness takes comfort in your holy words of encouragement. Even the silence of my failures does not hurt as much as the light of a lamp in the evening - it shines through again.

You can see through me, because you also have restlessness, and I am so unbelieving that I want to believe that one day everything will be alright! Smooth my face so that in my most beautiful moments I don't feel this rootlessness. On your forehead, mother, I would leave the mark of my finger.