Poem
Dumitru Crudu
MY MOTHER’S BERET
Back when she was still alive one day my mother Lost her Beret, which she was very attached to. Her favourite beret, A wee one, Like a cactus. A green one, like a parrot. When she visited relatives She put it on her head. When she went shopping, She wore that beret, Whether it was winter or summer, whether It was raining or snowing, she invariably left The house wearing that beret. But which she lost Three years before she died and suffered Hugely because of it. She suffered so greatly that She couldn’t sleep at night. A few times I even caught her Crying. That beret which she bought In her youth. Probably it was the first thing she bought After she got married to dad. Now I have found it. Now that my mother is no longer alive. I found it behind the sofa. I can’t even imagine how it got there. I picked it up and turned it on every side. I shook the dust off it and I looked at it carefully. But my mother is no longer alive for me to give it to her. How overjoyed she would have been if she had seen it. That wee beret as big as a cactus and green as a parrot. But I didn’t throw it away. I put it in a bag, Ready to give it to her at any moment should she ask for it, Even though I know there’s no way that will ever happen Unless one day I lose my mind.
MOEDERS BARET
Toen mijn moeder nog leefde Heeft ze op een dag Haar baret verloren, waar ze heel erg aan gehecht was. Haar lievelingsbaret, Klein Als een cactus. En groen als een papegaai. Als ze op familiebezoek ging Zette ze hem op haar hoofd. Als ze naar de markt ging, Ging ze met die baret, Of het nu winter of zomer was, of Het nu sneeuwde of regende, onveranderlijk ging ze Het huis uit met die baret. Toen ze hem echter heeft verloren Zo’n drie jaar voor haar dood heeft ze enorm Om dat verlies geleden. Ze leed zo erg Dat ze ’s nachts niet kon slapen. Ik heb haar zelfs een paar keer betrapt Terwijl ze huilde. De baret die ze in haar jonge jaren had gekocht. Was waarschijnlijk haar eerste aankoop Nadat ze met mijn vader was getrouwd. Nu vond ik hem terug. Nu mijn moeder niet meer in leven is. Ik vond hem achter de divan terug. Ik kan me niet voorstellen hoe hij daar terecht is gekomen. Ik pakte hem beet en draaide hem om en om. Ik schudde het stof eraf en Bekeek hem aandachtig. Maar mijn moeder leeft niet meer om hem haar te geven. Wat zou ze blij zijn geweest als ze hem had gezien. Die baret klein als een cactus en groen als een papegaai. Maar ik gooide hem niet weg. En heb hem in een tas gestopt, Die altijd klaar staat om haar te geven als ze er mij om zou vragen, Al weet ik dat dat niet zal gebeuren Dan wanneer ik op een dag mijn verstand verlies
BERETA MAMEI MELE
Pe când încă mai trăia mama mea într-o zi Și-a pierdut Bereta, la care ținea foarte tare. Bereta ei preferată, Micuță Ca un cactus. Și verde ca un papagal. Când pleca la rude Și-o punea în cap. Când pleca la târg, Se ducea cu bereta aia, Fie că era iarnă sau vară, fie Că ningea sau ploua, neapărat ieșea Din casă cu bereta aia. Pe care și-a pierdut-o însă Cu trei ani înainte să moară și a suferit Enorm din cauza asta. Suferea așa de tare că Nu putea să doarmă nopțile. Am surprins-o de câteva ori Chiar plângând. Bereta aia pe care a cumpărat-o În tinerețe, Probabil, era prima cumpărătură Pe care a făcut-o după ce s-a căsătorit cu tata. Acum eu am găsit-o. Acum după ce mama mea nu mai e în viață. Am găsit-o după divan. Nici nu-mi imaginez cum a nimerit acolo. Am luat-o în mână și am răsucit-o pe toate părțile. Am scuturat-o de praf și Am privit-o cu atenție. Dar mama mea nu mai e în viață ca să i-o dau. Cât s-ar mai fi bucurat dacă ar fi văzut-o. Bereta aia micuță cât un cactus și verde ca un papagal. Dar nu am aruncat-o. Si am bagat-o în geantă, Fiind gata oricând să i-o dau dacă mi-ar cere-o, Deși știu că asta nu are cum să se întâmple Decât dacă într-o bună zi îmi voi ieși eu din minți
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Poems of Dumitru Crudu
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MY MOTHER’S BERET
Back when she was still alive one day my mother Lost her Beret, which she was very attached to. Her favourite beret, A wee one, Like a cactus. A green one, like a parrot. When she visited relatives She put it on her head. When she went shopping, She wore that beret, Whether it was winter or summer, whether It was raining or snowing, she invariably left The house wearing that beret. But which she lost Three years before she died and suffered Hugely because of it. She suffered so greatly that She couldn’t sleep at night. A few times I even caught her Crying. That beret which she bought In her youth. Probably it was the first thing she bought After she got married to dad. Now I have found it. Now that my mother is no longer alive. I found it behind the sofa. I can’t even imagine how it got there. I picked it up and turned it on every side. I shook the dust off it and I looked at it carefully. But my mother is no longer alive for me to give it to her. How overjoyed she would have been if she had seen it. That wee beret as big as a cactus and green as a parrot. But I didn’t throw it away. I put it in a bag, Ready to give it to her at any moment should she ask for it, Even though I know there’s no way that will ever happen Unless one day I lose my mind.
MY MOTHER’S BERET
Back when she was still alive one day my mother Lost her Beret, which she was very attached to. Her favourite beret, A wee one, Like a cactus. A green one, like a parrot. When she visited relatives She put it on her head. When she went shopping, She wore that beret, Whether it was winter or summer, whether It was raining or snowing, she invariably left The house wearing that beret. But which she lost Three years before she died and suffered Hugely because of it. She suffered so greatly that She couldn’t sleep at night. A few times I even caught her Crying. That beret which she bought In her youth. Probably it was the first thing she bought After she got married to dad. Now I have found it. Now that my mother is no longer alive. I found it behind the sofa. I can’t even imagine how it got there. I picked it up and turned it on every side. I shook the dust off it and I looked at it carefully. But my mother is no longer alive for me to give it to her. How overjoyed she would have been if she had seen it. That wee beret as big as a cactus and green as a parrot. But I didn’t throw it away. I put it in a bag, Ready to give it to her at any moment should she ask for it, Even though I know there’s no way that will ever happen Unless one day I lose my mind.
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