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VIOLET ON THE MOUNTAIN<br />
Is that you’ll spread through the land;<br />
And you, the earth on my grave,<br />
May you come alive with flowers.<br />
Household, do not disperse;<br />
Wife, do not marry another.<br />
I want to find out one thing:<br />
Who will be mourning my death?<br />
Who will be shedding tears,<br />
Who will be deeply distressed?<br />
I think of this, and my heart<br />
Brings the truth to my mind:<br />
No one, except for my mother,<br />
Will truly mourn at my death.<br />
Although my sisters and brothers<br />
Will dress in unadorned garments,<br />
And my wife will be weeping<br />
So much that all are amazed,<br />
Still, a short time will go by<br />
And they will be comforting others.<br />
Then everyone will forget me,<br />
Others will console them.<br />
But in mother’s heart I’ll remain,<br />
She will not sleep at night.<br />
A blessing on the breasts that fed me!<br />
With all her heart she will mourn me:<br />
Mothers love their children;<br />
We children soon forget them.<br />
And so, this fleeting world<br />
Fills us with remorse.<br />
Oh wretched, fleeting world<br />
Oh wretched, fleeting world,<br />
I gobbled you up like a khink’al;<br />
Old age crept up, bent me over<br />
Like the rocker on a baby’s cradle.<br />
The devil got me in one eye,<br />
Stung it like a burning nettle;<br />
I squint with the eye I have left:<br />
It seems like the gloom before dawn.<br />
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