The glad, glad days, and the pleasant ways-
Ho! for the fields and the wildwood!
The scents, the sights, and the dear delights-
Ho! for our care-free childhood!
Heavy the air with a fragrance rare,
Strawberries ripe in the meadow,
Luscious and red where the vines are spread
Thickly in sun and shadow.
The glad, glad days, and the pleasant ways,
Chorus of wild birds calling:
'Strawberry ripe! Ho! strawberry ripe!'
From dawn till the dew is falling.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem