My heart often strolls through emerald glens
As my spirit flows with silver salmon rivers
Where thoughts take me around future bends
And the gentle winds make the willow trees quiver
As my mind soars high on falcoln wings
The frosty mornings and the mountain snow
Dickens' Christmases and early daffodil springs
Miners' cottages beaded, row by red brick row
Victorian railway stations at the journey's end
Roman bridges that carried workmen to and fro
Summer haystacks where meadows and rainbows blend
Gothic churches whose steeples blessed those below
Village cricket on a hazy Sunday afternoon
Teatime in the garden with wasps buzzing 'round
Pints in the pub as Afton smoke filled the room
School bell ringing, the pupils' dreaded sound
Passing the graveyard by the old grassy lane
A sign of the cross for those long gone before
My mother's smile to soothe the day's pain
A time forever gone like the memories I adore
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem