When it comes my time to look
Look back down that windy path
Let it not be filled with a golden peak
For I would rather those who speak
When it comes my time to look
Look back down that windy path
Let it not be filled with a golden mile
For I would rather just one smile
When it comes my time to look
Look back down that windy path
Let it not be filled with a golden rake
For I would rather a sincere handshake
When it comes your time to look
Look back down that windy path
What would you want it to be filled with?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem