06 June 1979 - 10: 02 a.m.
Frail mound of flesh and bones,
Is a Joy in the pouting face;
So seemingly strong and lively,
A gem in his mother's bosom,
A gift to be kept and treasured.
06 July 1979 - in a month,
The Joy has become a charm,
With lovable, radiant face,
With eyes trying to recognize,
With a firm yet kindly smile,
He has grown bigger, stronger,
An intelligent iota of mankind.
21 July 1979 - 10: 00 a.m.
With a hard, full night battle,
For marginal survival, he lost!
His wind machine collapsed,
To return to the All-Knowing,
Gone where he can't be reached,
The Joy became a guiding Angel.
And everything turned to a dream,
So distant to see reality again!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem