Glancing through my personal address book
I see pages all faded and torn...
Being beside me for many a year
It has become quite old and forlorn.
There are hundreds of names and addresses
All friends I have met on life's way.
But suddenly, I have become aware
Many entries are not needed today.
You've guessed, they've all gone to Heaven,
Now sharing the same abode:
Care of The Archangel Gabriel,
Down the Holy King of Glory Road.
I must buy me a brand new address book,
A book with a cover of gold
And enter dear names of my Late friends
Who dwell down That glorious road.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem