faded photographs and paper memories
are somehow all that's left behind
a life's tokens are few
youth thinks the loss of love is greatest
they cannot know death's call
when even the soul is lost
that soul contains a lifetime's memories
not just the few words I leave
not images of youth
there is no flash of life before my eyes
the memories trail and drift
like autumn leaves
I've had too much of time remembered
too much of hope and spring
too much recalled
for this is surely the greatest of agonies
to look ahead and see death
and to hear its silence
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
All those concerning or reffering to death have a fragrance of sensitive wisdom.That is what I do like most in your poesy, Barry, to the point That i've told to myself do not think of writing yours, do study Barry's or Kelly's poems and translate them...
Thanks as always. Feel free to translate any of them.