What do I do in my old age?
I stumble along in the early morning
Reciting lines to myself
I memorized in childhood
I wait for the morning breeze
To take me to a happier world
I search for the metaphor
That can define Poetry for me
I look into the light
And am joyful again
Still alive
After all the years
And writing something.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem