His father
had been and gone;
he'd seen him off
on the last train.
Nine year since
last seen before that.
Talked of childhood
which was all
his father knew;
of cinemas and theatres
back then.
Time past
and time future
as Eliot had said.
Time present was gone
once you said it;
the now all there was
but then gone before
you could say now.
His father had a similar
moustache he had
when Benny was a child.
The same staring eyes;
same walk.
Regrets are
futile things;
he had none.
His father had gone;
the train out of sight.
Benny's wife
had welcomed
not knowing him
or the history.
But that, Benny mused,
was another story.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem