That is what I will remember, your bravery and your love
that caring wise and watchful eye which now peers at us from above.
I wish I knew you more years ago, with your sly smile and charm
seventy eight years of slicked back hair and a lovely family of your own.
I knew the man you became, the brother who I adore
the leader of a family who gave us more and more.
There were so many lessons most important how to fight
to be proud of who we are, stand up with all our might.
Through all the important moments you made sure to be there
when I married with my woman you went through all you could bear.
The enemy had made a comeback, but you wouldn't let me know
you grinned and bared the pain, but I saw you lose your glow.
When in August I came to see you, determined to give you strength
refusing to believe anything could hurt you at least not to any length.
That last day I answered a call, my heart dropped and I knew
your time with us was wearing thin, I knew that I was losing you.
Surrounded in love and admiration, I stayed with you as your guide
and the sun shone on your face as you began to switch sides.
A week later I still ache to see you, to hear you laugh or see your smile
I'd willingly bear a harder load just to talk for a little while.
That is what I'll remember, your bravery and your love
that caring wise and watchful eye that now peers at us from above.
Every day I will take a minute of silence in memory of you because I miss you and I want you to come back home.
Your devoted brother, Luciano.