A Poem in Memory of My Father, Jose Angel Peña, 1922--2000

The season of death is stealing in,

The mist-filled wood smells of decay.

This time four fleeting years ago

I saw you last, then went away.

Called from this blazing autumn vale,

I travelled far to your bedside.

There, in a foreign, open land

Low mezquites crouched resaca-side.

That arid place was your first home,

Land of your sweet, ill-fated birth.

There, in a hammock bathed by sun

You first knew love upon the earth.

The circle of your life closed fast;

We knew the time would not be long.

It was my gift to leave you last;

As you slept I sang a song:

Now I am going to the harbor

Where one meets the ship of gold

That must bear me away.

Now I am going;

I have come only to say farewell.

Goodbye, my love; goodbye forever, goodbye.

Never more will your eyes look upon me,

Nor your ears hear my song.

I will deepen the oceans with my tears.
Goodbye, my love; goodbye forever, goodbye