In this winter of my life,
I recall my summer times.
When I was so young and gay
and life seemed filled with rhymes.
I did all those crazy things,
just had myself a ball.
Paid no heed to consequence,
let things where they would fall.
Now I'm old and gray of hair
and my body's wracked with pain.
I know that I would not want
to do it all again.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem