Que feliç era mare
Lluís Llach
How Happy Mother Was
When I was all alone with my mother,
in the winter, by the fire
of an old Catalan house,
in a small and dusty village,
how happy mother was,
how happy I was.
I heard the storm roar,
and the farmers running scared,
hurrying because the north wind
scatters the chaff and the wheat,
how happy mother was,
how happy I was.
When something was missing at home,
putting on a scarf and coat,
I would run to find it
and come back happy and cozy,
how happy mother was,
how happy I was.
When I was all alone in the room
and heard the trees creaking
and the people passing by scared,
I would hold onto the pillow tight,
how happy mother was,
how happy I was.
And the birds slept on the branches
and the sky was clearing up,
I would hide behind a tree
and watch everything, dreaming,
how happy mother was,
how happy I was.
