for my mother br br br As she asked on and on, br I kept asking to myself: br How many people receive me, br with such a joyfull love? br For who I am the quid of life, * br the main subject of their heart? br br For such a long time, br I've been entangled in old angers, br refusing what a difficult battle, br must have been, to be my mother. br br What am I waiting for? br Apolologies, speeches, feelings? br She was not perfect, but she brought me br into this life, believing, br someday I'd be wise enough, br to forgive and be forgiven.