It seems as I get older I think more about the past
I recount pains and pleasures that were destined not to last
Romances that blossomed but then all too quickly died
Leaving me uncertain as to when I laughed or cried
Cloudy recollections of success and failure too
Whirl about my consciousness with little to construe
I can remember certain days and surely certain nights
But names and faces fade away like colors in lamplight
I'm sure that somewhere in the past I forged a different path
Waged a war with evil or incurred a villain's wrath
Clarified the truth or merely set the record straight
Regarding details too mundane to now reiterate
Yet even it I could remember all of my success
Just what would it amount to and yes whom would I impress
Who will remember what I've done or what I've failed to do
As I embrace obscurity and bid the world adieu
And so it goes for each of us whether rich or poor
Whether weak or powerful, detested or adored
We have so little time to seek and find what we have dreamed
Yet hoping that in the pursuit we'll surely be redeemed
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
So pleased you have submitted again Richard - an excellent write again, well penned, and a great philosophy. Val