My father, dear beloved father,
My poor, unfortunate father.
You lived a life of illusion,
And hanged yourself in delusion.
You had an abnormal mind,
Deep and high range of emotions.
A kind and loving heart had you,
Couldn't see anyone in grief and pain.
You woke from sleep several times,
when ill and sick, did we all fall.
How charming and sweet was your smile,
We would wait carrying school bags awhile.
You were hurt once seeing a sight,
An old woman from garbage fed.
Such a tender heart had you,
Compassionate to old, feeble and poor.
Suffered at times mental agony,
Extremes, the abnormal mental state.
Sheer compassion, the neurosis,
Hit by blemish, the delusion.
Dignified profession had you,
Postmaster, the world would call you.
But when two men at distance spoke,
Victim of delusion were you.
My father, dear beloved father,
My poor, unfortunate father.
You lived a life of illusion,
And hanged yourself in delusion.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem