Today I saw a man
who was,
just yesterday a boy
with whom I had played.
and he spoke within my youthful ear
of how he was going away-
to catch the sun
and her many calico horizons.
and though I felt to mourn
I spoke instead, in gentle tongue:
' Father, will you be gone long? '
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Touching Amberlee...very Kenneth