Son of a Woman
o my dear mother, please do not grieve on this tragic death
the death that your son has to under go
although, as a son, i had a strong affection for you dear mother
i hadn’t even once held your hands to comfort you, the hands
were roughened and chapped from the toils and worries
my affection toward you was never less worth than anything else
in the world, i couldn't show my affection because it was not the time
for me to express my own feelings
nevertheless, since i am a son of woman
i became a lonely reed in the marsh when i stood by riverside
thinking of you, and when i was longing for you my beloved mother
the passing high wind struck and blew me down to earth
dear mother, many nights of miserable and lonely hours in the valley
i dreamed of you with sigh, many nights of cold and dark hours
in the wasteland i was thinking of you with tears
in the valley the rock was my pillow, in the wasteland the dews were
my quilt, and now, i am submitting myself to death as if i have
reconciled with and unconcerned of it though i am afraid of dying
nonetheless, dear mother, i know your desperation;
when i knelt to earth and fell on the ground because of the weight
of the cross that is too heavy to bear, you strove not to fall, but, alas,
all in vain, you have fallen on the ground with me holding the weight
of agony that is heavier than the cross i was carrying
for i never showed my passion that of a son to you
it is less painful to die on the cross than to watch
your restless anxiety at there in a short distance
therefore though i am dying after the fulfillment of my tasks on earth,
my heart is not easy to see your suffering, which is the mother to watch
her own son’s persecution, the pain that only the mother
can know
dear mother, please be healthy till
the end of the day though your son dies by a violent death;
dear mother, please live long and thereby the tears well up
in your eyes, on one bright morning, turns to full of joy
and flow into the river of everlasting happiness
dear mother, on the surface of earth
‘mother’ is the most affectionate, yet precious name of all i know
and therefore your lonely son’s last wish is to breathe my last breath
in your tender caring bosom
nonetheless, look at john the disciple who i love stands by you
dear mother, he will take good care of you, he will be your son
in my stead
o it is a torturous moment;
the affliction is, o mother, more than i can bear
Copyright © Su Ben | Year Posted 2015
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