AN OLD MAN
In the back of the noisy cafe
bent over a table, an old man sits;
with a newspaper in front of him, alone.
And in the miserable scorn of old age
he thinks of how little he enjoyed the years
when he had strength, and eloquence, and beauty.
He knows that he has grown old; he feels it, he sees it.
And yet the time when he was young seems
like yesterday. How short, how short a time.
And he contemplates how Discretion deceived him;
and how he always trusted it—how foolish—
the liar who said, “Tomorrow. You have plenty of time.”
He remembers urges he restrained; and all the joy
he sacrificed. Now for every lost chance
he scolds his foolish Discretion.
…But from all this thinking and remembering
the old man gets dizzy. And falls asleep
bent over the table in the café.
Libros Libertad 