I run fast
Faster than a tortoise.
I dive in the sea
Close to the shore.
I climb mountains
Like an ant.
Now I am old
Older than a Museum.
But I run fast
Faster than a run away horse.
I dive in the sea
Somewhere in the bottomless.
I climb the mountains
Like a Mountaineer.
Oh! This old age like a Ghost
And I know the fruitless journey is short
Yes, shorter than a dwarf.
* To my poor dearest Mom! Please send me your domicile.
Very wistful and nostalgic. Great use of metaphor and simile. Your mother represents home to you. Memorable write. 10'10. Warmest regards, Sandra
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Angst penned with a sigh and some clever, creaky images. I love your 'old ant' climbing the hill. Dear Nimal - the reader feels the pain of your homesickness. You communicate very well indeed. Love, Allie ♥ ♥ ♥ ♥