When I was only sixteen years
My dear mother she would say
Give away pounds and pence
But don't give your heart away
Squander all hard earned cash
Don't give up your fancy free
I was only sixteen years old
What use is there talking to me
Now I am four score and ten
I will never see sixteen again
I have sold all my wild oats
Lands End up to John o Groats
If fifty years could be found
I'd do it the other way round.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem