My
mother -- gate to our hopes,
She
is the chapel of our homes,
She
is our cradle, my mother,
The
fort of our home, my mother,
My
mother is both mother and father,
She
is both slave and master,
She
is the homeless of our home,
She
is the nest of eagles, my mother,
She
is the house-maid of our home,
And
the sovereign of our house,
Although
helpless, my mother,
She
is both salve, balm, and healer,
My
mother, the fountain of our house
And
the parched, thirsty sister,
Sleepless
guardian, my mother
And
our sweet sleep and slumber,
She
is the lit candle, ever bright,
My
mother is the sun, font of light.
Hovhanes
Shiraz
Translated
by Tatul Sonentz
