The Mother
The most beautiful word on the lips of mankind
is the word "Mother,"
and the most beautiful call is the call of "My mother."
It is a word full of hope and love,
a sweet and kind word coming from the depths of the heart.
The mother is everything-she is our consolation in sorrow,
our hope in misery, and our strength in weakness.
She is the source of love, mercy, sympathy, and forgiveness.
He who loses his mother loses a pure soul
who blesses and guards him constantly.
Everything in nature bespeaks the mother.
The sun is the mother of earth
and gives it its nourishment of heart;
it never leaves the universe at night
until it has put the earth to sleep
to the song of the sea and the hymn of birds and brooks.
And this earth is the mother of trees and flowers.
It produces them, nurses them, and weans them.
The trees and flowers
become kind mothers of their great fruits and seeds.
And the mother, the prototype of all existence,
is the eternal spirit, full of beauty and love.