I visited your grey face today.
Your not well, old friend, not well.
They say it’s spreading swiftly
Through your every curve and bend,
I examined you myself with cruel eyes
The world will never be able to mend.
You’ve changed all right.
What caused it?
All those years of over indulgence?
Should have seen it coming?
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.I would like to translate this poem