Rows of chimney pots do their still smoking dance
Then thru our windows early morning glance,
By chance ‘Is it raining? '
Sometimes a sunny day is gaining,
Thru life's looking glass
In the poorest lane
The garbage cans stand still,
No reflection from the old wooden fence in vain,
A black cat rattles a rusty tin can
The cobbled road portrays its oldness.
It's a holiday today so run up'n'over the holiday hill
The vacation window glints
Sunshine sparkles on wavy sea stints,
Tiny fingers slide and squeak
Thru the window little faces doth peak
Sand castles beckon without fail
Children's footprints for ever tread this barefoot trail.
Another day another glance thru the looking glass,
Another lesson learning in life's learning class
Now who on earth would learn any faster
To be certain I'm sure, Alice would be the master.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem