A figure once obscene,
Shows himself without a wrinkle of sadness or repentance,
And smiles at me as if I were his own,
And takes away my last hope of light,
And in a tick of a second,
I am with my grandfather, who I believed is with god.
I wander where I am!
Magically, am able to see my faults and my saint like acts,
I see my whole life with my eyes as if it were not my own,
I now truly wonder where I am!
I hear the voice of my grandfather comforting me,
I shove him and run away,
Wherever I go, I see him come nearer
And I then realised that,
Once the one obscene figure which I thought as passing by shadows were nothing
But the memories of all that occurs.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem