To live happily, in a warm atmosphere,
I need a crew of labourers tearing down
the ceiling, knocking down the walls and
rebuilding them again, mixing cement,
sifting building sand, erecting scaffolding......
Within such tumult I find a happy atmosphere, like
our old home movies showing how my uncles and
my father worked incessantly; my brothers joining
them, constructing garden walls, the eldest always
tinkering with motor cars and engines
For me seeing these activities brings back happy
memories; the crew of labourers working at our
office block today infused the boring work day
atmosphere with the warmth of childhood joys;
watching all in wonderment...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem