I know I am going somewhere
That would gladden any heart
I am going back to places I loved
When almost at the very start;
To the windy top of Skiddaw
To the slopes of Honister Pass
Where as a boy I used to run
Up the steep and heathery grass;
To feel the freedom in my veins
To taste the mountain air
To remember how things used to be
In the days when I was there;
To touch the heights of serenity
To be downpoured in the rain
I am going back to the golden past
To be a boy again.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
downpoured in the rain, good writing, I like it, thanks,