Now that my Czech is improving, I would like to find the original of a poem by Viktor Dyk, that was read out in translation at my father's funeral. Does anyone know it? For those sentimentalists among you, one of the reasons living in Prague means so much to me is that I am able to do what he was never able to do - walk again the streets of Prague. To be famous, happy, create and be wealthy, To be a fighter or a tribune of the nation. These were the stars which shine in youthful dreams. In magical days when tomorrow brings fulfilment. Again, as in those days the day is dawning. I see again as I did then the shining stars. For all those wishes only one has remained. Without shame to walk again the streets of Prague.