Share the remains of what is lively
in your lingering human experience,
when wrinkles crinkle more deeply on your face,
and your old eyes peer through dimmer lenses.
Show to the younger seers what we may find
before they detect their vision going blind,
and recoil needlessly in wanton fear
at what awaits them as the end draws near.
Let them know that the time before leaving
delights, and need not be full with grieving,
that leaves on trees continue to shimmer,
and hearts can praise love, though life grows slimmer.
We who charitably pass through this life,
caring for others whatever the strife,
leave behind gifts for those who shall follow,
that they find less that part of life fallow.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Not so much melancholy but wise. A wisdom that can only come with the deepening wrinkles that crinkle behind dimmer lenses. Wonderfully worded and all so very true......10