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There will be nothing, mother, of your celebrations.

From a young age I spent my summers with her,
Life took us to the opposite ends of the earth.
I did not know who was to blame, so I blamed everyone in turn,
I vowed that I would find her, even with grey hair.*
 
Ref.
The days are passing, mother, and from her (I've had) not so much as a letter,
I will die from the sorrow of us not being together.
You want my wedding, but your wish is in vain.
There will be nothing, mother, of your celebrations.*
 
I thought that time would bring her back to me.
For years I wrote letters without addresses.
I did not know who was to blame, so I blamed everyone in turn,
I vowed that I would find her, even with grey hair.*
 
Ref.
 
Ref.
 
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