Running; and bare-footed!
Voice, pitched yet blissful!
Through what, for summer heats
Knew no let up in.
If of sprinkler's, storm's cooling
Grassed; paved - more playful!
Were it not this fresh in
Heart, fondly recalled
Sharing, who'd accept it
This life account; this tale?
In my day, made none pale.
Mothers, least appalled!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem