Tempis fugit, the old man said,
As he pillowed his weary head.
I'm just not what I used to be,
Time, at last, has caught up with me.
That lively gait, so full of pep,
Is now a slower, faltering step.
Eyes that once were so very good,
Now see things through a misty hood.
Fingers once sensitive, now fumble around,
Allowing things to tumble down.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem