Johanna Ulfsak
Vend, tood lina kedratuna.
Kes selle mulle punub?*
Mullaga põimunud esivanemad
linataimi väetades veeretavad
edasi elus-olemise iva, mida
kiud-kiu haaval lahti harutada.
Õde, ma toon ta punutuna.
Vend, tood lina punutuna.
Kes selle mulle lõimib?
Katusekambri soe kuma, ema
käed kangastelgedel lõng-lõnga
haaval häälestavad,
haavu ajas harvendavad.
Õde, ma toon ta lõimituna.
Vend, tood lina lõimituna.
Kes selle mulle koob?
Õrn ja kõhklematu keha ema
süles, südame vastu surutud.
Mitu südamelööki emal kulub
kuniks laps üsas üheks punutud?
Õde, ma toon ta kootuna.
* Kaldkirjas Sumeri laul, 1750 eKr.
Brother, you bring the flax to me spun,
who will braid it for me?*
Where flax roots coil,
ancestors braided
with soil, there
the toil of untangling,
one fiber at a time,
the grain of living
passed down.
Sister, I bring it to you braided.
Brother, you bring the flax to me braided,
who will warp it for me?
There, warm glow
of the garret.
Mother, hands
on the loom,
thins out wounds,
each yarn in tune.
Sister, I bring it to you warped.
Brother, you bring the flax to me warped,
who will weave it for me?
There, tender body
unhesitantly
heart to heart.
How many mother’s
heartbeats
to weave
the child onto earth?
Sister, I bring it to you woven.
*In italics Sumerian Song, 1750 BC.