When you think of the old past,
One by one the pictures flash;
Though they turn back the clock,
The hands of time won't crash.
Yesteryears are but a memory
Written in your heart and mind;
But history repeats itself,
You cannot leave it behind.
Yesterdays give you the morrows,
For that's what are they designed;
You can wait for the next day,
But not for the auld lang syne.
About one's humble beginnings,
His grand ambitions as well;
By blood and sweat, he soars
Toward triumph, all can tell.
When you dream of the future,
Either that is far or near;
Look back where you came from,
Reaching the goal without fear.
Happiness and heartache
In this life won't forever last;
In clear brightness, you shall see
The future of the past.
You cannot leave it behind! ! Thanks for sharing this poem with us.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
When you think of the old past, One by one the pictures flash; Though they turn back the clock, The hands of time won't crash. A high level poem, sir Bernard.