Granny's death
When I was 17 years old
My grandmother died,
the woman I loved immensely.
I was crying.
My mother, the next day, said:
"Your mustache grows. You have a girlfriend.
You're a good guy, but you have to grow up. "
That was almost 50 years ago.
Today I give you advice:
"Good, young man,
I sympathize with your sorrow.
Sadness is part of life. Accept it.
But you will not be able to grow up
if your consolation is a woman
who will, by force, to be young;
who makes a boy from a man;
who wants to replace your Granny."
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Kad sam imao 15 godina
umrla mi je baka,
žena koju sam neizmjerno volio.
Plakao sam.
Majka mi je, sutradan, rekla:
"Rastu ti brkovi. Imaš djevojku.
Dobar si momak ali moraš da odrasteš."
To je bilo prije skoro 50 godina.
Danas ja tebi dajem savjet:
"Dobri, mladi čovječe,
Ja saosjećam sa tvojom tugom.
Žalost je dio života. Prihvati je.
Ali nećeš moći da odrasteš
ako ti utjeha bude žena
koja hoće, na silu, da bude mlada;
koja od čovjeka pravi dječaka;
koja hoće da ti zamjeni Baku."
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
We should not allow sorrow to overtake our cheer in life! You loved your grandmother and her death was painful to you. But you should get over that sadness and begin to live once more happy! Your mother gave you a sound advice.