Alina Rios

I come to you, river-mother
To wash the stains off my dress.
Your trees are weeping for me
The sorrow I cannot express.

I bring to you, river-mother
My baby, who left me too soon,
Before I could rock him gently
And build him a soft cocoon.

Take my baby, keep him.
Rock him from night to dawn.
Let night mists be his blanket,
And bird calls—his evensong.

I come to you, river-mother
To wash the stains off my dress.
Your waters turn red around me
And sorrow fills the emptiness.