Although Papà does not know, in my heart your name is crafted, Papà
Papà you have not seen it, the pages of my life are painted with your face, Papà
Eventhough you have not heard in many paragraphs of poems myself often chant
About stories, tales of fable like that have been written on the book of experience
Even though you no longer sail far, Papà, I am still sailing all the great oceans
Tis true Papàs physical strength is limited but energy to living rose greatly high
Tho many have departed, but Papà dearest, still holding on to keep on traveling
Although many a time I have complained, Papà raised me so that I do not drawn
There are still countless moments that are stored, archived from the past years
They are memories about you Papà beloved that will never become worn and old
All those fingers of yours and those two strong dark brown hands you have
Very often had run through and stroked my knotted brown hair in the past
In time of sickness and in time of wellness dearest Papà had been at present
And in times of your absence, my deep great longing for you, dearest Papà
Set me to feel ill that the fever takes pleasure in sailing this body of mine
Even today is no different to how it was in the past I am often tortured by agony
Do you still recall beloved Papà the years we were all spending together?
Or perhaps the weariness of your journey has erased moments and times?
These many crystal-like droplets from your daughters eyes are unstoppable
Countless memorable scenarios pay their visits through the days and nights
The gentle gallant face you have so truly pleasant for the eyes to gaze at
In the young cheerful days your charm took countless glances at Mamàs beauty
The grace and beauty of a woman you are now embracing dearly to eternity
Even though for years Mamà beloved is no longer by your side as companion
Not that long while at one moment my darling younger sister threw me a joke
Set me to laugh with her sentence Older sis beloved, youre just like Papà dear
Tis true that Papà and I are alike; in certain regard, we both are heart breakers
Said younger sister; Papà and I wont measure love, as we were born to be lovers
I still see you Papà, tending fields from one day to another beneath glaring ray
The burnt skin on your shoulders Papà is a memoir about the heat blearing sun
With your face that illustrates the upheavals from all path in your every travel
Whichever directions Papà had walked around to, reached and passed beyond
Such thick skin of Papàs feet show many sliced lines, split and diced the two feet
At times they bled, other times were filled with splinters and stabbed by thorns
Your firm muscles from the past are now weaker accompanied by old times
Lines to many tales on your forehead portraying joy and sorrow over decades
I am now a grown woman, venturing far from you, from Mamà and all siblings
Laughter and joy are my companions, though sorrow and sadness also visit me
Deep in my heart I now see, Papà beloved, yourself, bear many more heavy loads
With my deepest and endless gratitude I honour you, my dearest beloved Papà
Your light brown pupils with those light blue circles adorned you face, Papà
Becoming increasingly blurry to see in details and write me letters like before
And tho just a moment, even only a sentence, tho not each day, dear Papà writes
Each time I received your written message Papà, at all time call me sister
Many times since I was a child girl, you addressed me as little sister and daughter
Often, all of us your daughters, are addressed as mothers by you, darling Papà
I once asked your reason, your reply was because child girls, all women
Must be respected and loved as how one loves a mother and a sister
It is not only for a glimpse of moment that I stop in time to remember you, Papà
Not only for short while that I want to be embraced by your love and attention
I long being your companion, planting sweet potatoes and bananas in the garden
My hands are no longer small like before that were unable even to hold mangoes
My shoulders are bigger to carry logs that before I could only carry the tips ends
Papà, at times I see you all alone in many of my dreams through deep dark nights
I shed tears too many times in my sleeps in the middle of all those quite nights
This silence without your presence, Papà, becomes the hidden ghost in my soul
Due to Youtube not allowing such long text, I cannot place the whole written text of the poem here. Visit the following link to read the complete written text of this poem. http://www.facebook.com/pages/Francesca-Von-Reinhaart/13886482130?v=app_23474...
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Məd'a Milu (Silent Night) songby FrancescaVR1,800 views
I like this and I know it is sad. I am surprised no one has commented. My papa now sick and this touched my heart I wish I could read the whole transcript here francesca
magics02 10 months ago
@magics02, thank you for sparing your precious time to read this piece and I am sorry to hear your Papà is not in great condition. You can go and read the whole transcript on the link shown at the bottom of the text above. I hope you and your papa better times to come. Speedy recovery to your Papà. Kindest thoughts, Francesca.
FrancescaVR 9 months ago