We tread the tide of joy
In childhoods mirth of days,
Our spirits for to buoy
Our rite of passage ways.
We tread the tide of folly
In middle years and late,
And Mistletoe and Holly
Can not put off our fate.
We tread the tide alone,
That leads beneath the pier;
The body's vacant throne
That then becomes our bier.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem