ThE NeStS

My mother loves writing; she writes short stories and poems. I have many of them here in my desk, but I must confess I don’t like reading them. You might ask why…Its only that I have mixed feelings when I read my mom’s sad poems…I don’t know if it’s what she really feels or she is just writing about an imaginary situation…who knows…
Anyway, I translated one of them today and soon I’ll create a blog to post all her wrintings. She deserves it and I…well….I’ll pluck up courage, that’s the least I can do for my mom.

ThE NeStS

Today I took a nest from my garden lamp
I got it in my hands and it makes me sad
And I look my nest of man and your nest of bird
And I feel we look much alike.
I saw your efforts to build it, just like mine
Brick and straws, like that you and I started
Running and flying days and hours until we finished
And then we upholstered them inside with tender and feathers
Waiting for the arrival of our little ones
I got back to my running and you to your flying to support them
And one day they left and it hurts to admit it
I miss the crying, the laughing and the cheeping
How much alike we are…man and bird with empty nests.
But time goes by and one day it will be spring
And there’ll be new life in our warm nests
And in the air a new miracle, a different echo
Our children will come back…. yours, mine
And the afternoon will burst with laughing and chirping….

Idelva Mascetti....my mom