Out of the fire came ashes
Out of the ash came air
Ghost of my child, I seek you
In street, wood, everywhere
Death comes with a pill, a needle
What hurt puts that hunger there?
Oh, may the thronging spirits
Cherish you with more care
May your neighbours be heath and moormoth
Beat of my heart, my son
May the hills of your fathers around you
Guard you till worlds be done
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
This poem is amazingly drafted on death topic and wisely shared here. This is very emotional too. Death of a son is very painful for parents. May his soul rest in peace...10