Oh, age has come and brought me fifteen years
And perhaps with it,
Joy will come too.
Youth still dances with these years
Its rather short, happy life
Flows among the rocks of age like a river
It counts these rocks every year
So far, it has counted fifteen
More rocks will be collected in the river of youth
It shall count until it becomes no more
Until it has dried up
And leaves the rocks to crack and crumble
Until they too, are no more.
Natasha Kirke
http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/fifteen-years-3/
