Memories, loneliness, infirmity and the call of death, in the evening of life. |
EVENING OF LIFE Long dark night, somber and cold Is so silent, yet, behold! Harken voices yonder those. Out there a storm icy blows. I am alone, without friend, Without anyone to fend For my needs in this old age, In this home, a real cage. What keeps me company close Are some distant voices those That come from my hoary past, Which will until my death last. Truly the best years of life, I gave for children and wife; For my country, for my men, In order to defend them. But now that my back is bent, Why should I at all repent That I have been forgotten By all, today, forsaken? Memories of olden days, When from all I had won praise For my service, for my deed, No one remembers indeed. Now that I am old and weak, No more than this I do seek: “Don’t hate my infirmity, Let me live with dignity. I hope it is not too much To expect luxury such That I need not beg for bread, That hunger be not a dread. If that be not possible And you are just not able To my frail life thus protect, Let me then die with respect”. • Written in aabb, 7-7-7-7 format. M C Gupta 25 July 2003 |