We present this work in honor of Malvinas Day.

 

Come here,
my mother sweetly told me one day;
(I still seem to hear
the heavenly melody in the air of her voice).

Come, and tell me what such strange causes
draw that tear from you, my son,
which hangs from your trembling eyelashes,
like a curdled drop of dew.

You have a pity and you hide it from me.
Don’t you know that the simplest mother
knows how to read her children’s souls
like you do the book?

Do you want me to guess what you feel?
Come here, urchin,
with a couple of kisses on the forehead
I will dissipate the clouds from your sky.

I burst out crying. Nothing, I told him;
I do not know the cause of my tears,
but from time to time my
heart is oppressed, and I cry.

She bowed her forehead, thoughtful,
her pupil became troubled,
and, wiping her eyes and mine,
she told me more calmly:

– Always call your mother when you suffer,
she will come, dead or alive;
If it is in the world, to share your sorrows,
and if not, to console you from above…

And I do it this way when harsh luck,
like today, disturbs the calm of my home:
I invoke the name of my beloved mother,
and, then, I feel that my soul expands!