When a man looks back upon his youth-
And he's feeling reminiscent,
He tends to see unvarnished truth-
Not call life what it isn't.
Decisions he once justified-
Though often made in haste,
Now viewed as moral suicide,
He sighs, ‘Ah, what a waste.'
Decisions made, and vows he broke-
And confidence betrayed…
He now regrets harsh words he spoke,
The many times he strayed.
If he could do it o'er again-
He'd walk a straighter track,
How sad the lessons learned by men,
Only by looking back.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem