My Mother
p. 67 · Read in the full issue
By Celine Vamut
Brown woman, Woman of Rabaul!
Oh, my mother, / am thinking of you, Where are you mother?
I cant see you any more.
Oh, my mother, You who carried me upon your breast, You who gave me suck, You who watched over my first faltering footsteps.
You who were the first to open my eyes To the wonders of the earth.
I am thinking of you, I am thinking of you.
Woman of the fields, Woman of the gardens!
Oh, my mother, I am thinking of you.
Where are you mother?
I cant see you any more.
Oh, my mother, You who patiently bore my many moods, You who dried my tears, You who filled my weary heart with laughter.
How I should love to be beside you now, to be a little child beside you, / am thinking of you, / am thinking of you.
Woman of simplicity, Woman of great resignation.
Oh, my mother, Oh, my mother, / am thinking of you, I am thinking of you.