Sitting on a cosy chair the old man is reminiscing about the glorious days of his youth,
When he was a great wrestler,
His fabulous skill and power was known all over the world,
Several times he won the best prizes defeating the great stalwarts,
That time wrestling was his life, his prime interest,
Remembering it his eyes glitter with joy,
Suddenly he tries to imitate his wrestling skill of the past in excitement,
But this does not work at all,
As he has lost the sharpness and agility due to his old age;
His grandson notices his blunt show and laughs,
Being frustrated the man realizes,
One can not overcome his old age and its fragile effect.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem