Dear Father,
I can not call you anymore.
I can't say "Happy Birthday!",as I used to do before...
There, in the country where you're now no one has any phone. You have gone.
You probably were a great wizard,
but looked like a funny old geezer
for the grandchildren who
saw only the last part of you.
They have read the final chapter of the book
which I've took
since the second of its three painful parts.
I have known not much.
But I remember you.
That was a clever and handsome man,
who answered each of my questions. And...
Our long walks in the old town at night,
and black-and-white
and brown
photos we had took
and your look,
when you put me on a bus.
And I've suddenly seen I have not any photo of us.
Only memory keeps the image of you.
Happy birthday to you in the other world, from here with love.
Thank you.