Song for future
In shorts has knapsack, running shoes
Once again he is here
Sun still hides and seeks
Silver shades
Curled his hair and grey
Firmly walks
Goes healthy, strong
Eagle like turning head
He's in search
He stops
He picks up
He pours out the content
Hits the can to smash
Puts in bag
Both cheer and jeer:
I whisper:
"Bravo caring man."
Then I judge:
"He must be richest poor."
And I think
In my mind:
"Must write song ‘walks proud'"
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem