To My Mother

Poem by Alfred De Musset Period 19th century

(Written at the age of fourteen.)

After such a joyful feast,
Zealous followers of Gregory,
My friends, if, glass in hand,
We want to sing, laugh and drink,
Why address ourselves to Bacchus?
On a day as beautiful as this,
My friends, let us sing in chorus
To maternal tenderness. (Repeat.)

A gift so precious to us,
This sweet protector of childhood,
Ah! it is a favor from heaven
That God gave in His mercy.
Of a good so charming for man
We have here the model;
Who would not be grateful
To maternal tenderness? (Repeat.)

Does some happiness come?
Quickly, one tells it to one’s mother;
It is in her consoling breast
That one hides one’s tears or one’s shame.
Has one some feeble successes,
One triumphs only for her
And only to respond to the blessings
Of maternal tenderness. (Repeat.)

O you, whose foreseeing cares,
On the paths of this life
Guide my nonchalant steps,
My mother, to you I entrust myself.
From the reefs of a deceitful world
Turn aside my frail little boat.
I want to owe all my happiness
To maternal tenderness. (Repeat.)

Alfred De Musset

Translation generated by Poésies 123 with assistance from the deepseek-chat artificial-intelligence model.

Text published on Poésies 123: https://www.poesies123.com/en/poem-to-my-mother-alfred-de-musset/