What good does it do to grow up
and leave our childhood days?
I think back to those best of times
and am thankful in many ways.
Even the times we thought were bad
have become trifling now.
And all of the happiest of our youth
should be given an honorable bow.
Bright-eyed and bouncy like actors,
the world was our stage.
We were not concerned with troubles.
We weren't concerned with age.
To leave it all behind is tragic
for never again can we feel
ten-feet tall in a smaller body
that no one else can steal.
What good does it do to remember
all of our childhood days?
It comes back as a blessing
and we always wish it stays.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem