Young and old.

Young and old. Charming child to behold, And crowned with darts, I show to gloomy hearts What they would like to hold I run, morning and evening, After the good things Butterflies with colorful wings, I am the young hope coming! Old man with a tender voice, Everyone listen to rejoice And tries to hold on, I enter the threshold, and, sweet guest, I give back what age and time digest, I am the memory!