The fathers have eaten unripe grapes.
And the children’s teeth are set on edge.
Our life and what we do falls on our children like gentle or bitter flakes.
What we cast overboard they will surely dredge.

Let the little children alone and do not stop them coming.
For it is to such as these that the kingdom of heaven belongs.
It is their faith unquestioning.
To which we aspire, this faith is an echo in the mind like long forgotten songs.

It is our example
They follow.
We make the temple.
In which lies their faith growing or fallow.

But we should relax our sway.
They will always anyway make their own way.