The return of long missed realities,
Has made the waiting for them...
As crisp as fresh air wished,
By those who had wondered...
Whatever happened to those Joneses,
Who once lived a few doors away.
But had to move.
Since the making of impressions,
They could no longer afford.
And those who chose to live basically,
Can now ignore the foolishness...
Of the keeping up of appearances,
My neighborbors are now eager to admit...
They too had difficulty trying to do it!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem