They are absent now,
but their phantom is in every corner, in every place.
We see them in the eye of a child who carries their name,
We find them in the fragrance of an old perfume,
or in a line of poetry,
in the scent of bread.
In every good custom they bequeathed to us,
we live with the departed,
because they planted their love within us.
They are here in the heart.
We call out to them, and they shine like stars.
We pray for them secretly and openly.
We pray…
Hoping they are enjoying bliss in Paradise.
