We ran, we play...
in summers likewise in a hazy day.
Without any arguments, we together vote,
to play with our beloved paper boat.

We ran down to the stream by our house,
to the land where the cold water douse.
With our little feet, we ventured across the banks,
like brave soldiers in their ranks.

At first we held our boat up in the air,
then put them on the surface with caution and care.
We ran along the banks as the boat breasts the waves,
We gawk at it, feeling proud to see how brave our boats behaves.

The boat bobs, splashing water on either sides of its prow,
seeing its valiance even the mighty bay bows.
We stop at the edge of the bay to give it its deserved farewell,
then return to our homes, pleased to have a brilliant tale to tell.

The happiness the paper boat brought,
is now gone, all leached away by the drought.
We are now old and our grandchildren don't know how it bore,
to see a brave, little paper boat glide as the water beneath it roar.
As we lay on our deathbed, we have only one want,
To again see the little boat in that sunny day as it dived and taunt.