I fear to visit my uncle,
And dread to call him also.
Since a stroke took away the real one,
A happy and warm soul.
A swaging figure,
A dull face,
A shaky hand,
A strayed mind…
I hope he never feel what I feel,
I hope my smile to him is real,
But I cannot help weeping in a corner,
And pray for any help…
Mom tell me a lot of stories,
Unfolding a series of his misfortune;
Under the firm surface,
A sad and fragile heart hidden…
Now he need not worry,
The heart was taken away
And the surface was broken.
Through his dark eyes,
I hope to see a smile,
And a world in peace…
And dread to call him also.
Since a stroke took away the real one,
A happy and warm soul.
A swaging figure,
A dull face,
A shaky hand,
A strayed mind…
I hope he never feel what I feel,
I hope my smile to him is real,
But I cannot help weeping in a corner,
And pray for any help…
Mom tell me a lot of stories,
Unfolding a series of his misfortune;
Under the firm surface,
A sad and fragile heart hidden…
Now he need not worry,
The heart was taken away
And the surface was broken.
Through his dark eyes,
I hope to see a smile,
And a world in peace…