poety for mum

So many of those you’d go to bed with,

So few of those you’d like to wake up next to ...

And while parting in the morning, glance back,

Wave good-bye, and smile,

And anxiously await entire day to hear from.

So many of those you can just live with,

Drink coffee in the morning, talk, and argue ...

Take trips to the sea,

And be there as one should—in happiness and sadness,

Yet not be in love with.

So few of those you want to dream with!

To watch as clouds crowd in the sky,

To write the words of love on the first snow,

And think of them only,

And not know or want a greater fortune.

So few of those you can be silent with,

Who understand from a half a sentence, half a glance,

For whom you never mind to give,

For whom any punishment or pain

You’d take as an award ...

And so this thread weaves on—

Lightly we acquaint, painlessly we part ...

All because there’s so many of those you’d go to bed with.

So few of those you’d like to wake up next to.

So many of those you’d go to bed with ...

So few of those you’d like to wake up next to ...

And life’s thread is weaving us together ...

As if by reading coffee grounds.

We bustle—work … routine … concerns …

Who wants to hear—must all the while listen ...

On the run—you notice only bodies ...

Pause … to notice all the souls.

Decisions of the heart we’re making with our minds ...

At times afraid to smile back,

But our souls we’re only opening to those

We’d like to wake up next to ...

Translated by @corduroyverse