When Vincent returned to his home in Brabant,
His native countryside welcomed him,
With warmth, cheer and sunshine of spring.
His family was happy to have him back home too,
It was like the return of the prodigal son!
Vincent's father, who had grown older with pale features
Looked wistful, contemplative with drooping eyelids.
His mother, in contrast, looked more attractive than before.
She was positive, elevated with a glowing aura around her.
'Age built her up rather than tore her down.'!
Mother Anna Cornelia welcomed him heartily,
Though she had disapproved of his life
In miner's village, more so, because it brought
Her son more sorrow, than any kind of joy.
Vincent was not only her eldest son but her favourite too.
Anna cooked sumptuous dishes,
Stuffed Vincent with good food and affection,
Ignoring the fact that he had failed
In all his attempts to make any fortune so far.
All she wanted was to get him back on his feet.
Vincent began walking on the heath, found great pleasure
In watching the woodcutters cutting down the pine wood.
He loved the meadow, the elm trees that stood in the churchyard.
Slowly, steadily, the terrible days of starvation in the miner's village
The struggle, hardships of Borinage days became a distant memory.
On a rainy day, Vincent got up early and went into the kitchen
Mother Anna was surprised to see her son waiting for her.
'Mother! I am ready for work! ' He said, as he kissed her cheek.
'What work, son? ' she asked curiously.
'Mother, I am going to draw. That is my passion and goal in life! '
A Biographical Poem
It's so heartwarming to see that his family and friends wecomed him back in such a joyful manner. And to witness the unconditional love of his mother for Vincent. A new chapter begins! And I'm really looking forward to it, Geeta!
A superb episode on the real home-coming… top score.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Home, sweet home. A priceless treasure for most, including Vincent Van Gogh.