Good bye my friend, I can't be there
To drink to you or share
Old stories of the times gone by
And meet again friends not met since we were lads
Or talk of all the things we did, the times we had;
Of how the river flows and bends.
To reminisce, to laugh, to cry...
To silent contemplate and sigh
And wonder at the ambushing
By which the journey ends.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem