Where has the young boy gone,
Oh, where has the young boy gone?
The one who played
So quietly with his toys,
But who was capable of making
Such a terrible noise,
The one who climbed
The old gnarled beech tree,
And claimed to be ruler
Of all he could see,
The one who played with his puppy,
Held it so tenderly while it slept,
The one who ran through the meadow
And across the stream leapt,
The one I read stories to,
While he was tucked-up in his bed,
The one I nursed when he was ill
And I cared for and fed.
Time has passed and time has flown,
And the young boy has long since grown,
The young boy has long since grown,
And now has a young boy - all of his own …
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
a very well penned delightful poem that takes readers back to their childhood.5*
Thank you David, your comments are appreciated ~ Clive : )