Days in my mind
Revisit
That’s when I find
I was with it
It’s good back then
I could whip it
And could again
Get back well equipped
It feels like I’m shown a mirror
Of the past: no limit
But the scene is seasoned with scissors
My image is in the edit
With me others: shorter, smaller and thinner
Are standing in it
I hear them shout how each one is a winner
And losing just isn’t it
They own a third of my memory
The other two they fill it
With their worry, merry and fury
In this past land I find them and they me
A crochet
Our eyes knit it
Then the same eyes claim they don’t see
The thrill and tranquility
That’s in it
Because of the stretch of time between us
We can’t admit it
If only for each moment of push and fuss
We could fit it
And see it exactly as it was
Not as if we spit it before we bit it
Ten years again
I should revisit
The person who wrote this then
Do you remember this?
What is it?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem