This morning I'm happy again,
For its over my life of strain,
All the years I've spent in jest,
I know I'll compensate by doing the best.
I once was a chatty little man,
Entertaining empty dreams
That I often went against when the words were done,
But now I vow to labor until my vision dims.
Goodbye to the uproarious pool game nearby,
And to all my noisy acquaintances there,
Goodbye to my immature political dreams, I sigh
With a relief for such were huge tasks in vain!
My life shall be that of Shakespeare,
And that of Kipling and Holmes;
My treasures are but paper and pen'
And the constant imitation of the greats calm in their eternal homes!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem