As the midnight sun sets in the sea,

And the chariot of Apollo begins to rise in the east,

The remembrance of you flows through me,

As a river that marks its way through the ocean of beasts.



A puppeteer's song dances in my head,

It is a song made for the deceased - yet you are not fully gone.

The path you made when you walked away still lies there - in the

homestead.

The home where you showed me the fawn that pranced onto our lawn.



The home that we spent the first Christmas, the first birthday.

The home that you left when I was so young.

I was a childlike teenager then, as I am now, despite what others say.

And I still remember the dreadful day that the bells rang.



Although I was halfway around the world - and could not be with you,

I heard those bells ring on that morning.

The morning that the light shown from the sky as if on cue.

The morning that you left me for the final time - with me mourning.



It was that day that a part of me died.

It was buried with you, as you were buried with your life and memories

With your thoughts and words that were always my guide.

I will always remember you and will cherish the exchanged stories.



When the bells tolled, my heart mourned and I wished I could be there.

At least to say good-bye for the last time. At least to see you off.

All I can do now is talk to you from down here.

Hope that you in your dress of white and golden crown will not scoff.



When I say, that the fool who said time heals all wounds,

Is a person who has not met you.