Painful mourning

To my Aunt Mother

 

How useless is the flower, the blanket and the full wineglass,

That anyone feels tenderness, warmth, or lifts it from the table

Overflowing lives,detachment, frigid roses,grievance.

Throwing them in deep oceans, suffocated in pain!

 

Dreams, we had together, from my eternal love appears,

To have, since girly woman,strands of happiness.

Thus, still adult female, we sing without bitterness

What was feared and trembles in the flowery moonlit path.

 

All fiction: stage without curtains, without sound and without boards.

Dresses are for yellowed paper, scented silk.

Spoiled, she is dancing with me at the core of the earth.

Ah! Bloody separations, that nothing else evil befalls us!

 

I loved you,

I love you,

I will eternally love!

Oh! My aunt mother: Raimunda!¹

 

1Death and burial on 9. I. 2013.