In childhood, though I worried, I caredless.
But now its assumed I've got a molar teeth,
and am to assume duty.
The mind now contemplates mass
and the bairn thoughts don't win out.
Between the distinction of now
and then, I am to decide.
I fancy those ideas,
but for the bridged enstrangement,
my wish to be in bairn coats can't be.
As each hair greys, each thought does aswell,
And in the compos mentis,
a bit of childishness still dwells.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem