France Preseren

3 December 1800 – 8 February 1849 / Vrba

The Unmarried Mother

What was the need of you, little one,
My baby dear, my darling son,
To me - a girl, a foolish young thing,
A mother without a wedding ring?

My father cursed and beat me,
My mother in tears would entreat me;
My friends would blush and pass me by,
Strangers pointed at me on the sly.

And he who was my own true love -
Your father by the will above -
He wanders God knows how far from here.
Shamed because of us, poor dear.

What was the need of you, little one,
My baby dear, my darling son?
But whether there was need or no,
With all my heart I love you so.

There seem to open azure skies
Whene'er I look into your eyes;
And when on me you sweetly smile,
All I've suffered is gone for a while.

May He, by whom the birds are fed,
Joy and blessings on you shed!
Whether there was need or no,
With all my heart I love you so.
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