I love my son true,
At his birth, I held him to my chest
And called upon Heaven with praise,
On his first cry, I shed tears of joy
And mark’d my dream on the first night.
I love my son true,
I held his tiny hands on his first step,
I walk’d with him till he can run and play,
He must learn life, to be a man
A strong man he, be at my age, I pray
And through me he’d love his son.
Alas! The evil gun that shot through him, kill me.
My son only saw the early day like the dew.
The day is just begun and he is no more.
My time is half done and I shall spend the rest
In misty tears.
My beloved son,
Be at the Heaven’s gate and show me around the Eternal city,
When my days are done and we meet again.
Do not be afraid or sad; a part of me is you, my son.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
An insightful piece of poetry depicting both love ❤ and tragedy, well articulated and elegantly brought forth from the heart with conviction. An emotional poem that touches the inner recesses of the human heart. Thanks for sharing.