when we were children
papa makes an offering
in the altar, some food,
lighted candles, a bottle
of wine, some fruits,
and a cigar, and for the
women, some desserts, and
chocolates and roses,
and then the prayer leader
hired by mama, arrives and
then we all kneel down to
pray for our dearly departed.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem