The damp mountain slope, a leaf adrift
The rainbow after a rain
Carries you little by little upwards
Bouquet of flowers in hand, kindling on your back
A somber distinct song
Accompanies your happiness, it as simple as this

Girl from the mountains
In memory surfaces. Who was it that told me
You were the village’s most beautiful bride
From one hillock to the next
Planting, collecting firewood, chilly mornings of mist
One flimsy and patched garment
Hands cracked from the cold, drops of blood making the grass cringe

Who was it that told me: the starving look in your eyes
Pulsates in the rainbow after a rain
You said: “Living is very hard.”
Only in dreams
Can sweetness be tasted

Who was it that told me: You who married out a great distance
Were like a drifting cloud lingering over a cliff
Slowly descending in the rainbow after a rain
A pleasant face, spirit soaring off to far away places

The damp mountain slope, a leaf adrift
A girl
On her back is a heavy load of kindling, in her hand are fresh flowers
In a moment of carelessly looking back
Eye sockets have tears trickling