A warm remembrance for a mother, this is also a discreet reflection on a mother’s love and guidance for her child
I miss your voice Mama
and I thought I’d go to you.
I wanted to tell you in private
about my joys and sorrows.
Do you have the strength
to have a long heart-to-heart?
Fewer and fewer people understand
the state I am in.
You did not listen
when I asked if you
would follow me
and remain near.
You didn’t believe me when I told you
there were cruel people,
who exploit love for personal gain,
who would give a child to strangers?
Mama, since I left your home,
I can’t believe the horrors I’ve seen.
Singing of powerful love,
I collected white flowers in the garden.
a sly friend’s betrayal.
Raging sadness, the longing of the soul
sometimes breaks out in these words.
Then again I rip them up, afraid to upset you.
I’m dreaming about you, can see your wrinkled face.
I know if I asked you about justice, you would say:
‘Do not hurry daughter, all in good time.’
From Contemporary Kazakh Poetry, published by NBT in partnership with Cambridge University Press
Written by: Akkushtap Baktigereyeva