My last farewell

I will share with you a rough English version of the poem I spoke about in my previous post.  Please bear with me, I am only a poet´s grand-daughter and in Spanish, at that.  I just wanted to share the essence of the outlet I feel God gave to my pain in those dark hours.  The words followed by an * are actually the titles of her published books. 

The hands of a child, all covered in ink

Watched as you grow in traces of words

Squeezed out your sap, reach out in drops

of pencil and paper; of rhythm and word.

The Leaves of your Life* you filled out with poems

You printed your story in only one Dawn*

A Path* you created with Jewels of your Soul*

And Your Self* in verses you let us see.  

In order to know you one must read your poems

For your greatest passions are sheltered in them

Your love for life, every one of your memories

And every one beat of your heart

Inquisitive mind, and a restless soul!

for weapons a pen, a cane and a shawl

all your daily rambles you turned in adventures

And with the marimba we always saw you dance.

We bid you farewell into eternal rest

Wearing your white suit and all of our love

Go dance your marimba in heaven itself

By glory transformed, no cane anymore!

Thank you, Mamita Zoila, for your beautiful heritage!