Over the years, we begin to grow old.
With age we begin to appreciate things more and more.
We also reflect back on our lives,
And see if we have done everything we wanted to do.
Slowly over time the subject of death filters into the mind.
When will it happen? Today? Tomorrow? Five years? Ten years?
We also start to see the new generations of grandkids,
And this is the greatest reward of all.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem