“You’ll never believe, what it is that I see”
Said the old man just before he died
He squeezed my hand tightly, as he whispered lightly
And he pulled me down to his side
“I wouldn’t have believed, ” he said with a sigh
As I put my ear close to his lips
His dim eyes brightened, as his hand slowly rose
he pointed into space with thin fingertips
“It’s not…not at all, what you’d think it to be, ”
He whispered, as his hand… slowly fell to the bed
“We were wrong, all of us wrong, It goes on you see! ”
Barely audible now, slowly lowered his head
I put my hand on his brow, my cheek against his… tenderly
I could sense the ebb of his final tide
“You’d never, …ever believe, what it is that I see, ”
His eyes closed…he smiled…then he died
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem