Opening an old leter fom Vietnam, a picture I found,
Three young soldiers, frozen in time.
Two will remain forever young in the bossom of Crist.
The third in my mirror I see, Old soon to be.
Remembrance in dreams some 27 years old,
Vivid still yet in blood reds and emerald green.
A beautiful tropical Paradise
Turned into a living and a dying Hell
Orphaned children delivered unto the Nuns of Saigon
Received in open arms full of grace.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem