Love knows no calendar, no wrinkle, no year,
Yet the world builds fences of judgment and fear.
A silver-haired woman is told to stand apart,
A seasoned man is mocked for following his heart.
They ask her to surrender dreams to passing age,
To close the book of passion and leave the living stage.
They tell him that affection belongs only to the young,
As though love loses music when youth's song is sung.
But love is not measured by candles on a cake,
Nor by the youthful image society may make.
It blossoms in wisdom, in kindness, and in grace,
Leaving gentle traces that time cannot erase.
A woman still desires respect, devotion, and light,
A man still seeks companionship through every day and night.
Their hearts beat with the same hope beneath the passing years,
Beyond the walls of prejudice, beyond society's sneers.
Let love be free from ageism, from labels harsh and cold;
For every heart deserves its chance, whether young or old.
The soul remains ageless where true affections move,
And humanity shines brightest when all are free to love.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem