Constantine Cavafy (1863-1933)

Supplication

The sea took a sailor to its deep. --

His mother, unsuspecting, goes to light

a tall candle before the Virgin Mary

for his speedy return and for fine weather--

and always she cocks her ear to windward.

But while she prays and implores,

the icon listens, solemn and sad, knowing well

that the son she expects will no longer return.

Translated from the Greek by Rae Dalven

Seamus Heaney (1939-2013)

From “Clearances," In Memoriam M.K.H. (1911-1984)

When all the others were away at Mass

I was all hers as we peeled potatoes.

They broke the silence, let fall one by one

Like solder weeping off the soldering iron:

Cold comforts set between us, things to share

Gleaming in a bucket of clean water.

And again let fall. Little pleasant splashes

From each other's work would bring us to our senses.

So while the parish priest at her bedside

Went hammer and tongs at the prayers for the dying

And some were responding and some crying

I remembered her head bent towards my head,

Her breath in mine, our fluent dipping knives--

Never closer the whole rest of our lives.