The happiest old
have nothing and don’t mind.
The happiest young
are old before their time.
Few these.
The others are behind their years,
suffer thirteen-year-olds’ fears
into their twenties,
and in their forties
have appetite
for sins of twenty.
But not the bite.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Ah, for those who are not there yet. Read mine - Who Am I - Adeline
Yes!