Was the loviest day of the year,
with buckets and spades
fish paste sandwiches
and four-cornered hankies on heads.
The sea and the sand
and winkles for tea
before we packed up for the day.
A slamming of doors
as the steam from the train
carried us home.
Tired we slept
and dreamed of next year
for tomorrow it's work
and Christmas is soon.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem