Friday morning, February 8,2019 at 8: 17 a.m.; Wednesday afternoon, May 20,2020
You don't see yourself getting older,
aging, though others do, of course,
especially old friends that haven't seen
you in years: "You haven't changed;
you look the same! "They all say,
and you feel the same most of the time,
though you can't run roads you once did.
But not much else appears changed
though time has made a thief of time.
This was brought home moments ago
as I thought about a professor of mine
who taught a Walt Whitman course
forty-five years ago; Mel's dead now,
of course, I've read his obituary,but
the course is still there, playing itself
out inside of me: certain poems Mel
chose to teach, still alive, youthful,
followed by this moment's reflection.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem