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Envejecerse
Al envejecerse
Nunca tenía ilusiones
de una vida
más que yo la vivía
y tarde me ha venido
el tiempo de ser
más que yo era.
inutiles son los llantos
engañadoras las esperanzas
penosos los suspiros
del alma…
me enviejo.
.
pero al fin y al cabo
cuando
de este mundo
me vaya
no seré menos que
hijo de mi padre
niño de mi madre
.
GROWING OLD
I never had illusions
of a life more than
how I lived it
now too late to become
more than I was.
Useless are the cries
senseless the hopes
painful the sighs
of a soul grown old.
yet when I am done
I still will be
no less than
my father’s son
my mother’s child
Editing stage:
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Comments
Seren
Fri, 2013-01-25 04:22
Dearest Joe
I had to look the title up, I liked it but again it made me feel sad,
yet when I am done
I still will be
no less than
my father’s son
my mother’s child
my favourite lines
love and hugs Jayne-Chloe xxx
“The world is full of magic things, patiently waiting for our senses to grow sharper.” — W.B. Yeats
Geremia
Fri, 2013-01-25 08:42
We are all nothing less and
We are all nothing less and nothing more,
Seren
Fri, 2013-01-25 08:47
So true ... xxx
So true ... xxx
“The world is full of magic things, patiently waiting for our senses to grow sharper.” — W.B. Yeats
Ian.T
Fri, 2013-01-25 09:53
Joe
Another sad piece, you had a break a while back and wrote about other things.. I think you are near my age or a fraction younger shall we stop feeling sorry for our age, and use our poetic abilities to make the others smile, Yours Ian.T
.
There are a million reasons to believe in yourself,
So find more reasons to believe in others..
loved
Fri, 2013-01-25 11:23
''oh mummy '' all yell still
when???
at the moment of ecstasy
and
also when moms in her grave still!
and
one is on the next train ...
loved
Geremia
Sat, 2013-01-26 21:55
when moms in her grave still!
when moms in her grave still!
and
one is on the next train
Outstanding imagery. You need to build aomethiing out of this--create another p\iece ofpoetry.
joe
Don't you agree, Ian?
loved
Sat, 2013-01-26 23:38
ONLY a great poet like you who praises
can understand
a small one like me
as the time passes we all
yes we all have to fade away..
one,
some day
me and you too
the whole world
ought to renew
loved