THE SHADOW OF THE PAST
Now when I travel to my past
With my fresh mind
I remember vividly:
Fine evenings
An old man on his three-legged stool
With infinite stories
That trapped band of children
to his homestead.
I remember the only river
Boys and girls running
Shouting and singing...
With my fresh mind
I remember vividly:
Fine evenings
An old man on his three-legged stool
With infinite stories
That trapped band of children
to his homestead.
I remember the only river
Boys and girls running
Shouting and singing...