Look at you in your best blue suit.
Look at you in your power tie.
They've given us this last moment all alone,
a final chance to say goodbye.
When last we spoke I had no time.
I was busy on the phone.
I hurried you off to your bed
Where, as Fate had it, you died alone.
You were kind of heart and wise.
I am the child of your old age.
I chide myself for being brusque
just as you exited the stage.
Forgive me, Father, for I have sinned,
one of omission on my part.
Death has stolen the warmth of Love away
And left you with a cold clay heart.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem