Oh, our father is dead and cold
confidants all fled when told
the history of a man not so old
to the problems of others his hands never fold
From the East; ''what is this we hear''?
across the West; ''take heart and bear''
the North all whisper from ear to ear
as the Souths repeated the rounds with fear
Trauma, heartbreaks and tears unaided
all 's hairs shaved to the skin others unbraided
sitting and standing in groups discussing the dreaded
all wept; mourners, consolers and even the grey bearded
But our father's dead and in heaven drinking brandy
while we scrum and struggle, weep and wimp till we get heady
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
i like it. good job. =) keep it up.