The uphill trudge, too hot, too cold.
With home, to authenticate
A mirage or mist did negate.
Yet how keen to be re-told!
Along with this, through golf's mis-shot
Of a winning game's mis-chance
In its tale of woe to advance!
To be a child meant a lot!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem