The man who will die
Some day oh daughter, resting next to me
You will hear the breath of the man
Who will die. One day, not today, you will see
In my eyes finally the glance of a person
Who will not live forever as I saw once
In my father’s gaze, still piercing
But unable to break a veil of loneliness miles
Away where his wife sat up suddenly
Remembering only his name and not
Those of her sons or daughters. As I heard in her
Breath of resignation one day when words
Would not come and the unsayable sentence
Dropped over her head like a hangman’s hood.
But not this breath. Though for several years
I have heard it in my own breathing
Or seen it in the eyes studying me in the depth
Behind the mirror, I will keep these from you
As long as I can. And someday, not today,
When you see them you will say nothing,
Thinking surely you did not hear what you heard
Or saw what you saw. But I will know, though
I will already have begun to forget why.
Translations from the English 
Beautiful. Brought tears to my eyes.
Thank you, E.
Heartbreaking and beautiful, Jeff.
Thank you, Randy.
This one weighs heavily on me, Jeff. So true. Thank you.
Thanks for reading it, Robert. Some things you have to write while you can write them, and before the experience that gave birth to the thought loses its focus in the passing of days.
Sweet, sad, beautiful, haunting.
Thanks, Len.