Christmas was brighter when I was a child,
Squinting by the pale red light of the coils,
Electric resistance showing us spoils,
My sister would guess at the toys in piles,
“That must be yours”, she would whisper, all smiles,
Parents waking up, refreshed from their toils,
Mumbling bout whispers and how we were spoiled,
Hugging and kissing us all of the while,
Brothers running past Dad's wide open arms,
Headlong into bicycles, trains and cars,
Smiling, shouting “Look what Santa has brought! ”
Wailing like a young boy Christmas alarm.
A morning memory, gone by so far,
Where the lessons of love and life were taught.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem