After You're Gone

Written by my father
Translated by me

Somewhere at night a string sings out

All's dark, silent, filled with doubt

I'm alone, and you?

Out there, in the cold, a string sings out

Forgive me ma, that under your wing

A poet grew, only to sing 

Forgive me ma, I knew no way but run

I was a defiant son!

In your life I sang you no songs, but now I miss—

Forgive me ma, that I wiped off your kiss

Which you gave me, thinking I were asleep...

Now, after you're gone, I confess and I weep

I loved no one like you!

After you were gone, I knew

I had travelled to a place so alien, so cold

How bitter it had felt, to you I never told.

How you waited to receive a word from me, a letter,

How I missed you! Only now I know better

No longer am I ashamed to say, to try:

Forgive me ma, now at last I am allowed to cry.

This is a watercolor painting--the largest I have painted--of my father. Measuring 40" x 30", this is called 'Silence of the Bard. Why a Bard? Because even though my father never played a musical instrument he composed beautiful images using the music of words. This is why the impression of the strings extends out into the landscape, which becomes a melodically conceived universe. 

And, why Silence? because he never shared his last body of work with anyone. It is not been read by others, until now, until I published this book in his tribute: Home.

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Home

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"Absolutely Stunning!" "scenes of such exquisite depth and beauty"