Stillness of age renders one restless in phases of idleness.
Taking sidesteps to living, creating a fullness of experience
tantamount to enjoyable happiness.
Remaining in an atmosphere of quiet rendering, life takes on
meanings of it's own.
Recalling memories when it wants to view sorrow's rooms in
daylight hours while busy trying to accommodate life at the
same time.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem