Evocation of Maternal Warmth

Mothers! Mothers!
Oh, my mothers!

I call you now from far away,
to show me how you lived and died,
to see your joy and hear your cries,
and most of all to empathize.

Sing through me my Muses!

I see you now, my country mother;
a gentle wind blows through your hair.
You sing sweet songs of County Cork,
amid the sound of sizzling pork.

I see you now, my česká matka.
You dance the polka; you drink good beer.
Your bosom shakes as laughter roars
from your stocky frame and sweaty pores.

I see you now, meine Mutter der Preuße;
your cold blue eyes they scan the sea
to glimpse that spark of green and white,
which often lights Atlantic flights.

I see you now, my ancient Ma,
with stardust on your night black skin.
You fed me sunshine from your breast
and warmed me into existence.

Praise be to you, all my mothers!
Praise be to you, sweet maternal warmth!

Away from your embrace, the cold
of darkness drains my heat into
the depths of Death And No Return.
You leaving me is my greatest concern.

So hold me, hold me tight! And keep
me from that creeping night that draws
me to its lifeless realm. Preserve
me, mothers; warm me with your embrace!


-Me