Yours Is now a different world, some children say?
A world that lost it's way as thought advances?
May it never be, that we must give less thought,
to those with more in thought or how the thoughtless.
Why not let the children pray, where children play.
When you are old and Grey because of what you said,
and where then will you stay, from what you made?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem