The years have passed and now at last
Alone I stand, managing everyday affairs.
Sometimes the urge is within me
To forget all my problems and cares...
Maybe go sailing as in times of yore
Resting my soul on a sunny island shore.
But this life is reality, planned carefully
Living in style until the last mile.
So begone fleeting thoughts of Fantasy Isle.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem