🚧Mother’s gift
Ales GarunВедах беларускіх
Translated by
MOTHER’S GIFT
When my mother bore me, in the dark night dreary, She gave me a violin: «Play, my son, my dearest, Play it for good fortune, play for luck to bless you, Play it for long life, for free will, and success too».’
I remember when a child, without despairing Or grief, I played and frolicked, like a bird, uncaring, All my days were peaceful, at night sweet sleep would hover’ But now I have become disconsolate for ever.
Why, mother, this life-violin didst thou bestow me, Without teaching me the honour I should show it? But look upon it now — to tell it, truth requires me — I spoiled the violin I lost the soul entirely.
For long, indeed, my dear, good fortune did not meet me, I have had naught of luck, no joy has come to greet me, I play, Ah yes, I play!.. But how my heart is weary, And with an aching heart, life stretches ever dreary.
They never com to me, these songs with joy aglitter,
The songs the wide earth sings, the songs the small birds twitter. Pity and grief will weep, to hear me playing dully, The violin I have—the soul is vanished wholly.
Translated by Vera Rich__.
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