When I Would Be Old
When I would be old with those feeble hands,
The stammering words and the wrinkled bark
Would I have a hand to go to the final destination,
Or would I be alone, with only my determination.
When my legs would not go further,
When I would be bent on my back,
And can’t stand straight longer,
Would I would have a stick,
That would stick to me,
And let me stay, as I want to be.
When youth have fallen from me,
Like the leaves that fall from a tree,
When I would become a barren land,
Waiting for the last rain to fall free,
Would I have a rainbow to see
That would take me to the last dream.
When my muscles become loose
And sight would faint like foggy luce,
When my skin would be shivering,
And my thoughts would be static,
Would I have eyes of my own,
That would make me watch the last scene.
When I would be old,
And my every belonging also,
When not all that stayed with me,
Will exist certainly for any longer,
Would I have any companion,
To go with me, by the unknown way to unknown location.