A keresés eredménye

Mother

Mother, you are so young, and yet - your hair is gray
Mother, you are so little next to me
Where are you rushing to? Stop, wait for me
I want to ask you again
What did you see that was beautiful, noble?
It's cold, and your strong shoulders are not beside me
It's sad, because there are too many empty chairs in our home
Even though your two sons are like slender birch trees
You see them rarely, too little
But the fires of worries are burning
 
It's strange, you still think of us as children
Mother, sometimes you visit us in dreams
And it weighs on us, we hide our hearts among our friends
And among the everyday promises that we will come to visit
Mother, don't forgive us for our oblivion
Mother, don't extend your hand first
Because when the time will come
And our children will punish us this way
We will remember that pained look on our mothers face