Toss a coin into the wishing well
And make a wish
No one’s going to get something of it
Because it’s a lot of minutes
And the whole it’s non practical.
People pass and travel,
Through old enchanting places,
Europe is a destiny.
The charm involve them
It’s the hope of simple things
There’s no big debt,
Because it’s all paid with just a coin.
Old America had once the magic of it,
New discoveries amazed once
And now it’s just a memory
Which with different views,
Is not always lovable.
Innocence, joy, friends, solitude
Old streets
Love, pain, rejection
Forests and rivers paths of the past.
Memories.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem