being the reflections of a woman whose life is fading...
Ah! The joys of being young once more
to have opportunity knock again on my door.
To be able to do whatever I please
and not have to walk on wobbly knees.
To experience first love again,
bringing sorrow and joy and hope and pain.
But alas! What comes to those full of years and age?
Is it not the wisdom and understanding of a sage?
So let me look to the future instead
of regretting what I cannot have on my death bed.
I shall look forward to greeting my heavenly Father,
who will one day say, 'Welcome home, my daughter.'
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
The withholding of rhyme in the last line adds to the poignancy of the ending.