TO MY MOTHER
My mother, aft long rows of years I plant
To-day a sonnet 'neath thy name of gold.
Only a sonnet where hymn I should chant,
But verses, where should sacred prayers be told.
Ah, one must tread adown the path of woe
And bury much in many storm accursed,
Curse all that once he would have fondled so,
Despair, and oftentimes in weeping burst.
Then ridicule he must cynically
That frivolous, yet frightful song of life,
To accent the word "mother" properly.
And loathsome must that song to him remain,
To say he hears forever in the strife
That "mother" sound as a sacred refrain.
This work is a translation and has a separate copyright status to the applicable copyright protections of the original content.| Original: |
This work is in the public domain in the United States because it was published before January 1, 1927. The author died in 1942, so this work is also in the public domain in countries and areas where the copyright term is the author's life plus 75 years or less. This work may also be in the public domain in countries and areas with longer native copyright terms that apply the rule of the shorter term to foreign works. |
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| Translation: |
This work is in the public domain in the United States because it was published before January 1, 1927. The author died in 1973, so this work is also in the public domain in countries and areas where the copyright term is the author's life plus 30 years or less. This work may also be in the public domain in countries and areas with longer native copyright terms that apply the rule of the shorter term to foreign works. |