Years ago, we were rolling down a hill.
We loved the green stains that appeared on our pants.
But as we stood up from the ground,
we had to scratch at bites from the red ants.
Was it worth it? We believed so.
As our childhood days passed,
we always dirtied ourselves, rolling down hills
and searching for four-leaf clovers, like emeralds in the grass.
But now we are older—
much too mature to play.
We only know hard work and trouble now.
We long to have childhood again, day after day.
Good things seem harder to find, like four-leaf clovers.
Trouble seems to be greater than we can bear.
But they say that the grass is always greener on the other side.
Perhaps it’s because we can find emeralds there.