Oh Hunter, Catch!  snare Me my Childhood shadow! Poem by Nero CaroZiv

My days of childhood cheerful; nimble out of the mid-wood's twilight
Into the slumbering summer groves and meadow's dawn,
Running barefoot on Ivory sand and curious  brown-eyed,
Yet those days of innocent, beautiful life are irreversibly gone


I skipped through the hill and dale; full volume singing,
And my shadow danced in front along,
And I did not know  which I should follow,
My shadow or my song!


Oh Hunter, catch!  snare me my childhood shadow!
Oh Nightingale, catch! sing again my boyish strain!
At these memories I am moonstruck with music and maddening lost meadow 
I track those happy days in vain!    


To prop on beds of spring flowers of the legendary moly
How sweet time; while warm airs lulled me blowing gently slowly
As I walked on garden with eyes open wide and air still
Beneath late spring heaven bright and holy
To watch again the long bright river brimmed with reeds and drawing slowly
His water flowing coming from no apparent hill


To hear the echo of dew drops calling
From leaf to leaf through the thicket vine
And to watch the fresh distill waters in soft murmur falling 
Through many ornaments of the field divine
Once more to hear the sparkling cold at summer brine
While I rest in the shade of old sticky trunk of a pine





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