OLD AGE HAS A POETRY OF ITS OWN
Old Age has a Poetry of its own
Aches and pains
Abilities lost
Fears of going down further
Longings for youth
Impossible frustrations at being unable to do
With hours of conscious effort
That which one once did easily automatically-
Fear of death
Loss
Grief at friends and family members gone-
A Poetry of pain and compensation
Of making the best of it
Of a kind of courage also-
Old Age has a poetry of its own
Not the poetry of Youth's longing and beauty and rage
But of quiet desperation and difficult hanging on
And trying to go to the end with courage
When nothing can save and nothing can stop
The horror from eventually being
One's own decline and death.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem