A couple of years ago
On Cristmas there was snow
And I could catch sun in every puddle I went by near
Then I was young, was certain - and I believed in the ideals.
Now I’m kind of grown-up
With all that kind of mature stuff
I look forward and see future unclear
I wonder, where my life’s ground lie and my heart’s gear
I often miss the confidence that passed
And I may try, but back that spirit can’t be grasped
And you’ll smile (anyway, that’s not a big deal) –
But am I so unsatisfied because I still belive in an ideal?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.