O these bright fragments, leftover from childhood,
No longer provide pleasure. They've lost their worth.
As for Youth's brief arena of distractions,
Its vivid colours used to arouse me, but
It lacked substance and form. And now life's pressures
Weigh heavy upon me. O there seems to be
No escape from the all consuming rat race!
It will take some time; but I will heal my mind.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Youths brief arena of distractions Great line. Enjoyed reading this poem.
Thanks Clive...much appreciated!