Just four more days, until November, the
month, that's always painful, to remember!
For on the fourth is when you were born
and now, it leaves me, very forlorn! No more,
can I celebrate this day, for it's such a long
time, since you passed away! How hard it is.
at this time of year, always wishing, you were
still here! But you see, even in death, you're
always with me, I can never, let go! I think
about you all the time, I'm sure, somehow,
you know! So on the day of your birthday,
there's no doubt, I'll be vey sad. For that
day, we always got together to celebrate,
which is gone forever. But just the same, I'll
drink a toast to you, as you were the best
father, a girl ever had!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem