They may never come again who knew the joy
Of youth among the mountains there
As time and use degrade and then destroy
All but the memories those hearts alone still bear.
But yet the hillsides graft a gentle scar
To bind the happenings of those who care
So that neither time nor loss can mar
The roots that land and lives forever share.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem