THE DRESS
From the chest smelling of aroma and must
Grandma took a dress she wore when young
It is so thin and it’s as light as dust,
As if out of nothing it had sprung.
So sadly rustles the dress of silk white,
Its ruffles unweave like misty lace,
And delicate figures, in a shower of light,
Like in old times, are waltzing with grace.
She sees again her very first ball,
She recognizes her maiden dress,
Touching the cold silk she trembles all,
Filled with sadness by its soft caress.
More and more, she bends her tired brow,
So bent is grandma in her old shawl…
The beautiful dancer, where is she now
To glide again in her dress at the ball ?
Her feet, delicate and small,
Her clear eyes, and her smile bright,
How come they are dead, all,
In her bent body, where is her light?
And then I heard the dead silk answering,
Or maybe it was grandma in her old shawl;
No, they aren’t dead, they keep on dancing,
Always in other dresses, at the first ball.
(written by the Romanian poet Magda Isanos)
From the chest smelling of aroma and must
Grandma took a dress she wore when young
It is so thin and it’s as light as dust,
As if out of nothing it had sprung.
So sadly rustles the dress of silk white,
Its ruffles unweave like misty lace,
And delicate figures, in a shower of light,
Like in old times, are waltzing with grace.
She sees again her very first ball,
She recognizes her maiden dress,
Touching the cold silk she trembles all,
Filled with sadness by its soft caress.
More and more, she bends her tired brow,
So bent is grandma in her old shawl…
The beautiful dancer, where is she now
To glide again in her dress at the ball ?
Her feet, delicate and small,
Her clear eyes, and her smile bright,
How come they are dead, all,
In her bent body, where is her light?
And then I heard the dead silk answering,
Or maybe it was grandma in her old shawl;
No, they aren’t dead, they keep on dancing,
Always in other dresses, at the first ball.
(written by the Romanian poet Magda Isanos)
I need you today.
Grandma always made you feel she had been waiting to see just you all day and now the day was complete.
Grandma's heart is a Patchwork of Love.
Grandmother : a wonderful mother with lots of practice.
If nothing is going well, call your grandmother.
We should all have one person who knows how to bless us despite the evidence, Grandmother was that person to me.
I miss you.
But always you live in my heart, you are with me each day of my life.
You gave me so much.
♥ I love you forever ♥