What Mother told me once

I lost my father when I was just two.
My mother, for my sake, chose not to wed again.
She'd grow mulberry trees,
raise silkworms, and weave cloth -
she reared me till I was grown up.
After some twenty years I still recall
that day when I was five.
It happened I told her a lie -
next day I feared she'd spank me.
But no, she just looked sad.
She hugged me, kissed me on the head:
"My son, before he closed his eyes,
your father said that all through life
you should remain sincere and true."
"Mother, what does it mean,
to be sincere and true?"
My mother kissed me on the eyes:
"My son, a man sincere and true
will laugh when, glad, he wants to laugh
will cry when, sad, he wants to cry.
If you love someone, say you love.
If you hate someone, say you hate.
Someone may not entice you with sweet words -
still, dont say hate when you feel love.
Someone may grab a knife and threaten you -
still, dont say love when you feel hate."

Since then, when some adult asked me,
"My boy, whom do you love the best?"
remembering what my mother told me once,
I would reply:
"I love best one who's true, sincere."
The person stared at me in disbelief
thinking, "He's just a parrot, that young boy."
But no, for what my mother told me once
impressed itself upon my brain, my mind
as if on some immaculate, virgin sheet
were drawn a crimson, bright red line.

Now I am twenty-five -
the orphan has become a writer since.
But what my mother told me once,
when i was five,
remains intact - a crimson, bright red line.
What at the circus tightrope walkers do
is quite a feat.
Yet harder is what writers do
who'll walk the path of truth through life.
If you love someone, say you love.
If you hate someone, say you hate.
Someone may not entice you with sweet words -
still, dont say hate when you feel love.
Someone may grab a knife and threaten you -
still, dont say love when you feel hate.

A writer, I shall write the truth
and speak the truth throughout my life.
No sugar and no honey of success
can bribe my tongue.
Thunder that crashes overhead
cant strike me down.
And if they grab my paper, seize my pen,
I'll take a knife and write on stone.

(1956)