Slowly, gradually
We learn,
Like the hours, like the years,
The art of loss.
It's late in our life.
Our body, our soul
Are to fatigued
To die erect.
Aged hours.
We go no longer anywhere.
The evening contains
All that we need to know.
Evening's sadness.
We lose our dreams
When we need them most.
- -
From Aged Mirrors - trilogyofthemirrors.com
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
time is natural vehicle brings us to the absolute learning the lesson of life////