They cry of the first born
the sound all so pure.
A life in its tender,
his mind still so pure.
The smile on their faces,
joy he brings us all.
Proud feels his father.
My son will do it all.
Father's hand to hold to
found the world to be safe.
His life was so lovely
in his mother's gentle care.
Time all so passed by,
saw it took its toll.
Truth, that's hard to standby
that hand had now grown old.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem