My father reads modern poems aloud in heaven.

My father, in heaven, read aloud by himself.

Hymns or news. Now he stops, because he is thoughtful.

What he read. No. He is listening to the children.

The sound in the yard. That's laughter

Still crying? rely on

Answer, he can either continue reading,

Or run to save a child's day from grief.

He is always like this, whether in heaven or on earth.

Because my father used to have a dignified and firm rhythm

Living on the earth, mine. Shoulder because of his gaze.

And pain. Because of my father's shoulder

My life is painful now because of paddling.

Go back and forth with a strong rhythm:

Nostalgia for the past and speculation about the future. because of him

Let me recite a book a month, and I will finish reading it.

I completely forgot. I got it.

The moment to gain knowledge is when I walk up a flight of stairs.

Half of them, or lost in the street.

He was very disappointed in me,

I and anyone else will be late.

People in the Millennium.

Can't stay until the end of the world. universal

It was a little dark for me at first, and it ended.

Don't pry. I don't understand.

The source of starlight or the destination of starlight.

Another year passed unconsciously.

Balance. But I don't belittle scholars;

My father is one of them, and I admire him very much.

He used to tie up his books with all our things,

Then sit down and wait for news from his god.

Guide, yes, and wait for instructions from the radio.

At the door, I looked at him, and suddenly,

Realize that he is under the lintel like me.

Acquire knowledge; He is a helpless man,

When he sat there, there were boxes, boxes, old newspapers and ropes all around him.

He acquired knowledge.

He can't decide war or peace, whether he is at home or in exile.

Escape by land or sea.

He just waits, just like someone in the distance, nearby, here, after, waiting to find:

Is it praise or lament hidden in the next moment?