The children play upon the lawn,
another generation's dawn.
We wish a better destiny
for springtime hope and progeny.
The melody that lovers plan,
in children since all time began,
darts here and there across the grass
till innocence can stand at last
and raise a fist in triumph there,
a pastel egg, an answered prayer.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem