I miss your voice so much, Dad.
When our talks went on for hours;
that sweet music is only
an echo now.


I try to bring it back to memory,
it gets lost; it vanishes in the dark.
My gaze is wet with tears, I stay
close to you and I suddenly blush.


My first verses lay insecure, just
like dozens of buds in your hands
you seized them and chased away my fears,
for you were my best critic, Dad.


I didn’t know there were diseases
that forever can steal the voice,
taking every word away from you,
the bridge that connected us both.


I’ll translate your look into words,
I’ll be pleased with the silence,
in my soul I’ll keep as a rainbow
your sweet and unique smile.


I miss your voice so much, Dad...