WHAT A PLEASURE IT IS
What a pleasure it is,
To walk without pain-
To not have to watch every step-
To not feel suddenly a stabbing ache
When one puts one foot on the ground-
What a pleasure
Not to have to think of my knees my tendons
And to walk and just walk,
And to see whatever I see before me-
What a pleasure just to be alright
And to appreciate in old age
A gift one took for granted in one's youth.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem