Dad and I
He told me:
(Dad, I mean.)
“Go my son…do not sit.”
He talked as, I was kid.
Decades gone, as has he
I see me less than him
Even if
Round the world I have been.
Listen Dad;
I told you while you lived; now repeat:
“I have to kiss your hand”, now time is
For your feet, long after you have left
Deep in land; if something, is the bone.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem