In old age I cry more easily
Is it the accumulated grief
For so many I knew and loved
No longer here?
And with this the thought that I soon will no longer be here?
Or is it simply at the thought of so much sadness and pain in the world?
And the witnessing of this pain?
I cry more easily
I try not to
I hold myself
But then some overwhelming sense of grief
Whose source I do not always know
comes
And I cry and cry
As if there never will be an end to this grief
And this grief the very essence and meaning of my being.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Life is not a happy thing as it ends. The Painful loses accumulate, memories make you cry, knowing there is no going back to the happy times, the loved ones lost, the end of life. Sad but true.