My Mother
My mother—gate to our hopes,
She is the chapel of our homes,
She is our cradle, my mother,
The fort of our home, my mother,
My mother is both mother and father,
She is both slave and master,
She is the homeless of our home,
She is the nest of eagles, my mother,
She is the housemaid of our home,
And the sovereign of our house,
Although helpless, my mother,
She is both salve, balm, and healer,
My mother, the fountain of our house
And the parched, thirsty sister,
Sleepless guardian, my mother
And our sweet sleep and slumber.
She is the lit candle, ever bright,
My mother is the sun, font of light.
Hovhannes Shiraz
Translated by Tatul Sonentz