Free are the simple days
that bring you no care.
Imprisoned are the hard days
that are difficult to bear.
But bare them we must
and keep hopes high
so none of them
will let hope die.
Ecstatic are the beauteous days
that spring forth with joy.
Hapless are the colorless days
that appear and then destroy
the freedom that
you thought was yours
because it came
and closed the doors
on the simple days
that were with you,
because you believed
they'd never be through.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem