Dear Dad,
You said - you will end up like your mother
Enjoy it while you can-
By which, I presume, you meant fat,
Or stuck at home with nowhere to go.
Or both.
But now it is Mother's Day.
You are gone, and she is independent,
Good natured, strong,
Fierce and gentle and well-travelled.
The curse you uttered becomes a blessing
if I end up like my mother.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem