Written by my father
Translated by me
Translated by me
Somewhere at night a string sings out
All's dark, silent, filled with doubt
I'm alone, and you?
Out there, in the cold, a string sings out
Forgive me ma, that under your wing
A poet grew, only to sing
Forgive me ma, I knew no way but run
I was a defiant son!
In your life I sang you no songs, but now I miss—
Forgive me ma, that I wiped off your kiss
Which you gave me, thinking I were asleep...
Now, after you're gone, I confess and I weep
I loved no one like you!
After you were gone, I knew
I had travelled to a place so alien, so cold
How bitter it had felt, to you I never told.
How you waited to receive a word from me, a letter,
How I missed you! Only now I know better
No longer am I ashamed to say, to try:
Forgive me ma, now at last I am allowed to cry.
This is a watercolor painting--the largest I have painted--of my father. Measuring 40" x 30", this is called 'Silence of the Bard. Why a Bard? Because even though my father never played a musical instrument he composed beautiful images using the music of words. This is why the impression of the strings extends out into the landscape, which becomes a melodically conceived universe.
And, why Silence? because he never shared his last body of work with anyone. It is not been read by others, until now, until I published this book in his tribute: Home.
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So Beautiful. Tears of a man for his mother. Your portrait beautiful, sad, perfect. Thank You for sharing.ReplyDelete
Oh thank you Travelogue for the Universe, it's a tribute to him and to the power of his words.Delete