being lost in childhood
is nothing
but meditation
often in serene atmosphere
i tune my nostrils
to absorb
the lost fragrance of childhood
and the ears
to hear
the lost voices of childhood
and memories...
where i lived with nameless grass
nameless plants...
and their nameless Flowers...
nameless colours...
i played with ants
and nameless insects...
nameless butterflies...
i lived in shrubs
as if in a wild forest
without name
without words
a child speaks...
lost childhood is certainly and issue, but not the end of life. go ahead.very nice poem.posted 10 surya
How simple life was when we were children... at times, tramatizing, but when I think of comfort, I am small, and my mother and father are there to protect me... Thanks for takng me back with this poem, especially with the ants! Lee
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Lost childhood is very terrible. But you created a Named Poem: The Child is SPEAKING NOW! 5 Stars full.This poem touches my inside heart