A Letter from my Old Papa
“Cherish youth, but trust old age”
Lad, I am a man with grey hair now
An old handsome bird with poor eyesight
Still travelling everywhere with my walking stick,
the only partner who consoles me
It bears all the burdens , knows every secret of this old man
Give me your great browny hands
I am yearning to sit under a colorful autumn tree dreaming how big you are
watching all the wonders of life
You wanted to catch every floating autumn leaf when you were a child
You cried, when you missed one
I put you on my shoulders and ran fast with the wind
I was so young and strong man
SON, you laughed like a sun
The wrinkles in the face will remind you my gentle smile
The rough hands are waiting to touch your head with love
Isolation and memory are the companions who comfort me
in this little dark room
“Cherish youth, but trust old age”.