Yea, mom is a rock. Mom can be a rock star too. She’s the coolest, and she’s always there. For the kids, that is, and the hubby, and oh, my god, for the dog too.

But what about mom for mom??

There’s a beautiful poem, written in Hebrew, by one of the most gifted poets I’ve read, Dahlia Ravikovitch. It’s called “Pride”, and here’s my attempt at translating this fantastic poem:

Even rocks break, I am telling you

And not for old age.

Many years they lie on their backs in the heat and the cold,

So many years,

It almost makes an impression of peaceful.

They do not move from their spot and so the cracks are hidden.
Sort of pride.

Many years pass with expectation.

The one destined to break them has not yet arrived.

And then the moss flourishes, the seaweed excite, and the sea emerges and returns.

And it seems like there’s no movement.

Until a small seal comes to brush against the rocks

Will come and will go.

And suddenly the rock is wounded.

I told you, when rocks break it happens by surprise.

Not to mention people.

I think ever since the first time I read it, as a high school student, it has been one of my favorite poems. I always felt like there are so many places to take this poem to, and so much to learn from it. And yet today, at a surprising halt, I discovered that I have learned nothing. And I feel doomed to repeat mistakes and sink deeper into this whirl of the endless chase after a really peaceful day. And the only thing masking my cracks is my pride.