A World Cup Without My Father Poem by Rodion Myshkin
A World Cup Without My Father
It's been months since his passing
Yet thoughts leading to him, are they trespassing?
I was born into the borders Brazil and Argentina,
Hearing glory days of yore,
Maradona, a scorceror like no other,
Pele, a wizard of whom wide-mouthed I heard,
Unable to choose sides or love more.
I have grown with these quadrennial cups,
From '94 to 2018, followed the scene,
By mimicking mom & cheering
To plotting tactics with dad & finally fighting,
With brother staying the calmest in crisis.
Haven't we all cheered,
fought, shouted, scolded, pleaded
And even cried?
Well, I have with my family.
And this year, the cycle goes on
Only, without my dad around.
Loved this poem. Your love for your father, for soccer, your loss… I think I can understand! And soccer, we all love. May I invite you to read my poem "Pullavur World Cup 2022"? Thank you.
Thank you. I am humbled. Please do share the poem. I tried searching it, but couldn't get it
Reading your poem I am reminded of that song 'Dance With My Father' sung by Luther Vandross. Your dad will be with you in spirit, enjoy the games.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/29/2024 2:29:41 AM # 1.0.0.1119
We didn't watched the World Cup, but my Dad and I would watch Tv mysteries, those were the best times I had
Thank you for your response. Yeah, we all have a lot of good times to remember.