The Passing Of My Father

Who could understand the flame which invades our hearts?

It appears if anyone threatens life and happiness

Its language is neither the word nor the ardor

Its comes from an invisible source from the depth

It expresses itself through the physical and the feeling

To help us understand the pain of the moment

In silence it blows, it burns, in all directions

It does not accept either excuses, or smiles, or appeasement

Its life is pure and of an entirely different substance

It does not belong to earth, to the havens, or to science

Who could penetrate it, even apparently

In its unique life at the heart of childhood?

Neither the world’s treasures, nor the best distractions

Can reach it or even attract its attention

Of all ages it understands but one language

The one that bonds all people, conscious and wise

Rich or poor, intelligent or ignorant

As long as they become conscious

Of the source of their origin and their descent

Which is neither their ancestors nor their resemblance

But that which penetrates us through the power of love

And creates in us happiness and peace forever

The days pass and never return

Thanks so much for having lived them

The coming days bring the unknown

We welcome them with joy and restraint.

... Copyright 2007 Emile Tubiana