While I go, to where I never was before.
Can I do it,
the softest sound, this voice that sings.
Like once it was before.
Complete the range the angels voice,
no humans heard before.
Therefore, it is to hearts it sooths,
and to lose the feelings of, I tremble, loss.
As for this his only child,
someone is calling, a white dove pursues.
Coming often only when I dream.
And it is sung and substitution it flies by.
From the mouth of babes,
then when her fathers love is reconciled.
And he that never slept above,
and cries below and watching her fly past.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem