May Father Poem by Des Agos

With you, go back to talk with you again,
now I live in your memory.
The color of the earth draws your face
time is spent on your face,
fatigue has burdened your back
dragging your days into oblivion.
A tear in the turf stagnates
fall to the ground with sweet complaining,
will look to the dying sun
she waits on the horizon yet.
Down slowly in the evening,
sad nature comes back to you the sun,
I no longer feel the sweet warmth
I hear a sad heart in pain