I don't know why I want a Vespa -
It's a fancy and that's that;
I only know I want one badly
But then...once upon a time
I owned a grey one – second hand;
It took me in and out to Galway,
When the engine was in tune,
To further my education
In nineteen sixty one.
We had good times together
- It held it's own for me for sure
With a red Lambretta in road races
On the sea run after Oranmore.
But that was in the sixties
And you'd think I'd had my fling -
To want one now is unthinkable
I can hear you say as to a friend -
When I'm three score years and ten.
You could be right, I'll grant you that,
But the new ones I have seen abroad
Have been a major distraction
In such attractive colour schemes:
A lovely cream one topped them all
And it won my heart entirely
With seats of brown leather allure;
I thought of it under me some day -
The breeze upon my face again
On the sea run after Oranmore.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem