That young old man remain unemployed
most of the time.
The chair he keeps remain empty for long-
being hungry and thirsty for customers!
His sharp scissors in hand wait in a dull mood to cut the edges of the sharp time!
The little mirror before him is as opaque as his once shiny eyes.
He is not a defeated soldier like many of us-
He still kept his fighting on!
So what? -His legs can't run hard
So what? -His hands shivers from the race of his age!
He can't be 'defeated'
May be damaged or 'destroyed' with the time.
This 'Old Man' will keep on his fight to his direction set high!
He has a watch in his hand to measure the beating of hard times!
If you have some unmeasured times
If you have some minutes to waste-
Please! Do meet him
Salute him, honor him
The young old man with scissors who is cutting the sharp edges of his time.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem