Snared within its spidery web,
Back and forth we gently sway,
Your little head upon my arm
Oblivious of the passing day,
Resting in the hammock's fold
Because you're young... and I, too old.
If old were suddenly young again!
If time could only swing like this!
Rejuvenated, reversing course...
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem