Our Mothers Depart
OUR MOTHERS DEPART
Our mothers depart from us,
gently depart
On tiptoe,
but we sleep soundly,
stuffed with food,
and fail to notice this dread hour.
Our mothers do not leave us suddenly,
no —
it only seems so 'sudden.'
Slowly they depart, and strangely,
with short steps down the stairs of years.
One year, remembering nervously,
we make a fuss to mark their birthday,
but this belated zeal
will save neither their souls
nor ours.
They withdraw ever further,
withdraw even further.
Roused from sleep,
we stretch toward them,
but our hands suddenly beat the air —
a wall of glass has grown up there!
We were too late.
The dread hour had struck,
Suppressing tears, we watch our mothers,
in columns quiet and austere,
departing from us.
Yevgeny Yevtushenko
(my mother died almost two years ago.
i have not cried. we weren't friends.
but how i loved her, as a child.
the more she pulled away from me
the more i craved her.)
Our mothers depart from us,
gently depart
On tiptoe,
but we sleep soundly,
stuffed with food,
and fail to notice this dread hour.
Our mothers do not leave us suddenly,
no —
it only seems so 'sudden.'
Slowly they depart, and strangely,with short steps down the stairs of years.
One year, remembering nervously,
we make a fuss to mark their birthday,
but this belated zeal
will save neither their souls
nor ours.
They withdraw ever further,withdraw even further.
Roused from sleep,
we stretch toward them,
but our hands suddenly beat the air —
a wall of glass has grown up there!
We were too late.
The dread hour had struck,
Suppressing tears, we watch our mothers,
in columns quiet and austere,
departing from us.
Yevgeny Yevtushenko
(my mother died almost two years ago.i have not cried. we weren't friends.
but how i loved her, as a child.
the more she pulled away from me
the more i craved her.)
Labels: alberto micheli pellegrini, Kuniyoshi Utagawa, marie-paule carpentier, mary cassatt, maurice denis, poetry, Utamaro Kitagawa, Yevgeny Yevtushenko, yoshitoshi Taiso
posted by lotusgreen at 7:53 PM
4 Comments:
This is a gorgeous post and this poem by the Russian YY perfect. The Russian poets such as Akmatova and Vosenensky were the first that captivated me. Excuse spelling.
I just finished what was a long writing project for me as a part of nanowrimo. It Is about the spirit of a chrysanthemum and her path of solitude.
Take care Lotus, my friend
thank you dear princess.
i first found this poem in the mid-sixties, in a magazine (the new yorker?) that i came across in my journalism class! resonated then. resonates now.
I just choked tears for you and for all the mothers that inevitably one day will leave us.
oh yoli dear....
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hi, and thanks so much for stopping by. i spend all too much time thinking my own thoughts about this stuff, so please tell me yours. i thrive on the exchange!
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