my father is dead
i miss asking
him asking this
old question which
i had been keeping
inside me for all
those years: why do
we hesitate to say
we love each other?
what is wrong?
today i bring him
flowers in his grave
i light three red
candles and i still
keep in silence how
we could have said
those words but we
really couldn't.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem