Swinging dreams they linger
Like the little voices gone
Turn your head from wonder
Look away, look away
Cherished was the child
That could never do no wrong
Took so long just to remember
The way she played, oh how she played
In April showers
Only to stray in Mays hour
Flowers she used to love
Now slowly wane upon her grave
There are no words to say
Just how I miss you or I'm sorry
My lips collect the dirt
While I kiss your memory
Goodbye...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Such a sad story! Thus that plastic bag came disguised in the form of death...! Life is full of unpredictable accidents! A child who was to bloom into a flower and who loved flowers has withered and faded like the flowers put on her grave! Who can atone the grief of that bereaved father....? How wicked the world is!