Marianna Lorenc

[Translation of a ML poem written to Barbara (Basia) Mueller Walling in the early 1960's]

Do you remember, Basia, our little house,

Its walls, thresholds and doors

Where we played hide and seek,

And those fragrant lilacs outside?

Do you remember the smell of the fresh bread

Our mother gave us to eat

The blueness of the beautiful sky above

That overwhelmed the senses?

Do you remember our hard-working mother’s hands

Her warm smile, her caring words

And constant worry over her little homestead’s fate?

Do you Remember? Do you Remember?

Do you remember our father’s broad smile

Whenever he observed his busy bees?

Do you remember him reading, playing the fiddle

And how he loved flowers?

Do you remember the trees that Daddy planted,

The well-tended garden of our brother,

The one who God later took from us,

And its delicious fruits?

Do you remember our garden pond,

Where we contentedly washed our feet,

Listening to the songs of birds and buzzing of bugs,

And the downy carpet on the meadow green?

I remember you, a little girl

Playing in the green grass;

Your little dolls in hand,

The pond listening to your songs.

Do you remember the road leading away from home

And the big rock at the end of the field,

On which we walked happily to school

On pleasant days and in bitter cold?

Our little house still stands today

On a little piece of our dear country’s earth;

It withstood days both good and stormy,

Drawing strength from all its memories.

I turn my eyes to it wistfully,

My heart so full of memories;

It is still a nest for our dear old mother,

Who dreams of her offspring long flown away.

To my sister Basia with love

Misia

P.S.

Now it is but an empty nest,

The blue sky, the memories of our little house,

And longing for those days gone by

Is all that is left.

Written for you dear Basia

Misia