Time leaps around in Michael Longley's "A Grasshopper"

In Michael Longley's poem "A Grasshopper" in his collection "The Candlelight Master" (Cape 2020), dedicated to his daughter Rebecca for her fiftieth birthday, he shares a "memory of you at four" when she injured her foot, then offers her "after forty-six years" a poem-within-the-poem, a "belated medicament", a "translation from the Greek / (Anacreon?) which I wrote / When I was less than half your age." Time leaps around here between the daughter's adulthood and a childhood memory she may no longer have, as well as between the father's poem composed in his old age and the translation he did as a young man – of a poem over 2500 years old. (Andrew Shields, #111words, 5 August 2021)