I am home, visiting my mother… A walnut tree embraces me With its lush branches, And it has no others. The rain embroiders grey strands In mother's garden, It is—unspeakable joy In this scorching weather. Overnight a carrot grew tall, A daisy rose higher on its petal And half of the cherries Ripened into cherries. Fog winds at dawn, Stretches with a ray toward the cottage. And the heart nearly stops— This is a diamond celebration! Under gentle bushes We gather snowflakes by the handful— And my children cannot understand Why those snowflakes are green. Why among winding vines The winds—the very soul grows bright… This May defies the forecast, And already the grapes fade. From the herd on winged horns Our Lyska brings weariness. And milk—in ringing pots… I am visiting mother. I am home. We shall kneel before God With mother on our knees, Give thanks for the journey And for the Lord's Son. We shall give thanks for the miracle Of blossoms and all their fruits. May we always in life Rejoice in His generous gifts! Let us rejoice daily, people, To life from spring to spring: The highest gift—a miracle— To be with Him in eternity.
