Gahvareh Cradle
I Long to weep …, where is, mother, where is my cradle?The same cradle that I don’t remember, the same real and true safetyThe same place where the prince of the tales always chose the poor girlThe same city that was just as big as me, but much large than this worldNeither was there any fear of shadows nor the horror of windsNeither would I get lost and nor a doveI long to weep…, where is, mother, where is my cradleDon’t say I have grown up, don’t say it since it sounds bitterDon’t say crying suits me no longerCome and take me and caress me, I wish to be in peaceful armsIn this autumn-ish , sad bedding , where every green breath has been determinedNo one knows how hard it is to hang on like a single leaf on a dying branch.I long to cry….where is mother, where is my cuddleLook how easy the blossom of my lovings dies out in the mind of windWhere is that holy and healing hand? tell it come and take my handWhere is the holy Maria, the Pure Maria, why is she not thinking of this broken soul?In this anguish, this shelterless ness , why isn’t her green skirt my cover?I long to weep.., where is , mother, where is my cradle