The salad days rooted with love encompassed,
Like a quilt bestowing warmth.
Being juvenile blazed with temper,
Like the spillage of the alp during lighter evenings.
My youth burgeoned with newfangled aspirations,
Like the sparse blossom in the green belt of tea.
The hoary barnet with dwindled allurement and surging devoir,
Like a veteran evergreen concealing copious feathered friends.
Dotage in gloom and despair withers the charm,
Like leaves in the land of fado tones.
With fervour spirit and sophistication I fade away like a mealie.