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Robert Smithdas, childhood, in English Clear filters

DreamyRobert Smithdas

Mirror

When I was a child, I used to stand With a broken mirror in my hand, And watch my laughing image pass In and out of the shining glass. It seemed mysterious and strange To watch the bright, clear surface change, And behold within a tiny space A perfect portrait of my face. If I could hold it here once more, And look into it as before, I wonder if I still would see A faint resemblance of Me?
DreamyRobert Smithdas

Retrospect

I hear with my heart the songs that were familiar When I was just a child with their music on my lips; Sad songs and glad songs, that now have fallen silent; Marching-songs and love-songs, and songs of men and ships. I see with my soul the seasons changing places, From the white time of winter to the glossy green of spring; And the smiles and the laughter of those warm, endearing faces That made my days of childhood seem such a happy thing. The weight of the years has buried them like embers, Hidden deep and glowing in the ashes of the past; But still they linger on, as my heart and soul remember The music and the beauty of the years that could not last.

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