During the Lonesome Jubilee
I was young and free
Not a care in the world
The garden that I tried to grow never caught on
But I admired it anyway
I would roll down the hills
Thinking of it as a complete thrill
The sun was on my side
Like a king of the hill
I had no need to hide
Years after the Lonesome Jubilee
I'm middle aged
Thinking that my younger self had it all
Fun and games were of a variety then
Remembering all those friends
And wondering where they are now
And all the people in my neighborhood
Where are they now?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem