Oh, Mother,
Death has awakened them in our hearts,
eternally alive
Like a flower blossoming from its own kernel,
rooted deeply in a lifetime’s blood.
Oh, Mother,
Those beloved faces have become
a luminous moon-halo,
stirring longing within my heart.
Through that glow
Its luminous rays reach,
Are there signs beneath the moonlight?
through which a wanderer reaches his destination,
Or perhaps trace footprints?
If only... I could ask.. mother!
or perhaps you ask the moon...
If only. if only






