Photographer: © Ryan Wilcox
When I was growing up, there was a song my dad listened to all the time. Especially in the evenings. Late at night staring off into the starry sky. Contemplating his youthful memories. Remembering his own dad.
After so many times of hearing my dad play it, I eventually engraved the song on my heart.
Well, now my dad has passed away and I finally fully understand what it is like to miss a father. I am walking my very father’s shoes. I am feeling his sweet sadness.
This song which I translated poetically brought my dad to tears every time he sang it reminiscing my grandfather.
Now it’s my turn to sing it and miss him.
My father. My old man.
MY OLD MAN
©: Piero de Benedictis
English Translation: Fatima Morken
Lyrics & Video in Spanish: https://youtu.be/P2hVgrRp-kY
A good guy, my Old Man is
Alone and awaiting,
With sadness as long as
A treading distance
I observe him from a distance,
We are so different;
Born at the turn of our century
Along with trolleys and red wine
My Old Man, my Dear Old Man
Walking burdensomely;
As though you’re forgiving the wind
I'm your very blood, my Old Man
I am your silence; I am your time
Kind eyes has he
Of a sturdy shape is he;
Age has come upon him
Offering no carnival nor krewe
My years are jovial
My Old Man’s years are ancient;
Pain follows him
Like timeless history
My Old Man, My Beloved Old Man
Walking burdensomely;
As though you’re forgiving the wind
I'm your very blood, my Old Man
I am your silence; I am your time