Do be there at my entombment!
I held your hand,
Taught thee to step, walk.
I was your Polaris to knowledge.
I guide thee to words, talk.
And doth thinkest me scornful human? ?
(Is it because I am old now?)
Do be there at my funeral!
Your tears, were blood in my eyes.
Your cry, made me cuddle you.
Your smile had many colors,
Love, Joy, Fun, all new.
And doth thinkest me scornful parent? ?
(Is it because you have grown up?)
Do be there at my burial!
I brought thee up,
Full filled your desires
Never did my love for you, wither
Steadied your wobbling aspires.
And doth thinkest me a scornful friend? ?
(Is it because I am useless now?)
I aint your weakness
Now thee scoff on me!
My tears have just one color
Solitude, Sorrow, no glee.
Strom of feelings
Tempest in wearied arms.
Thou don't pay any heed.
All I do is weep.
Daughtery Love is what I need
But thou art gone!
Shalen't thee rememberest
Your procreator?
Yet doth thinkest me a scornful guide? ?
But do be there at my interment!
(Take these as last words from your dying parent)
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem