Happy Old Age
A Akhtar Jawad
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Winning in a game is a temporary joy,
Next time when we are defeated,
The trophy becomes an old toy,
Yet from it sweet memories are reflected.
Wining in love is an eternal joy,
Due to old age when we are defeated,
A child or a grandchild, a girl or a boy,
Let the old man to be refracted.
Changed are the paths of life,
Change of medium refracts the lights,
The old woman, still a sleeping wife,
Happier are the days more happy are the nights!
Bu şiiri puanla
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