Photos of family, how precious they are.
As we remember lives, sparkles of memory appear,
touching our heartstrings with tearful love.
Playing violin-like melodies of yesterday as we
watch our personal videos of a life now past.
Tearful joy spreads our emotions over us as we
laugh and remember the little things so full of life,
our treasures to care for when we have nothing else
to hold on to.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
yes, there are always full of treasures that make us home...