We present this work in honor of the 130th anniversary of the poet’s death.

 

More than a mother as a saint to me
You were in truth. You gave me birth and died,
But Oh! my mother when you left my side
God kissed an angel in eternity.
Today when in my dreams methinks I see
Your smiling face, I gaze on you with pride,
And sigh, sweet mother, as I oft have sighed,
While tears I shed when I remember thee.
And should we never, never meet again
How sad ‘twould by, but I shall always keep
Your image in my heart, and not complain;
For something tells me that you lie asleep
Because my suff’ring would have caused you pain—
Because my weeping would have made you weep.

Translation by Jorge Godoy