If pain she had, she has pain no more.
For the last time, I wished I had told her that I love her,
As I had told her before.
So just like her beautiful voice,
That plays over in my head as I rethink my
choice.
I shall keep these lines graceful, sweet
and discreet.
To say a prayer for her and the family every night,
Before sleep bids my retreat.
For during my grieving hours,
I know we are all in God's Powers.
Because in Heaven, I know.
My Aunt is one of our beloved flowers.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem