From boyhood to manhood you pass
like sweet morning rain.
The songs you sang the morning last
are now a new refrain.
No longer held in mother's arms
no longer take of father's bread
This life is yours with great alarm
there's another place to make your bed.
Make of your life what you will
be never too ashamed.
Your dreams are but your plans to build
your tools are what you've gained.
If ever dreams let you down
if ever dreams go nowhere,
There are greater things to get you down
and greater burdens to bear.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.