Réquiem de madre [English translation]

Here lies a poor woman,

Who died from exhaustion,

In her life she could never have

Her hands crossed over her lap.1

In this valley of cloth and soap,

I'll go as I have come,

No more luck than the obligation,

Higher pay than oblivion.

Hallelujah, I'm moving to a place,

Where nothing ever gets dirty.

No one will ask me to feed them,

In my final resting place,

I won't have to iron nor sow,

As if I were condemned.

Angels sing 'round,

This eternal scullery maid,

And they change her towel,2

For a crown.

Do not mourn this poor woman,

Because she's on her way,

To a place where there's no sweeping,

Where there's no kitchen.

Hallelujah, this poor

Blessed woman,

She has nothing more to do now,

And she does nothing more now.

1. Her hands were always busy with chores, never still.2. kitchen or dish towel.