Years wear down
This body a rusty town
The cells fast shrink,
Yet somewhere deep within
A faintly throbbing green
Keeps us from the brink.
When it all seem to recur
Getting closer to departure
Past stories’ repeat,
Some things don’t grow stale
Their pleasures immeasurable
Memories bitter sweet.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem