It is a period of twilight of life...
The rustle of silence is all unfolding
It is a period of twilight of life…
Observing returning birds in the nest
Wishing children will visit the old nest
Thinking they can't wait to delight us
Hoping to see children hopping right
Orange glow of the rainbow is bowing
Mist is in the air of the spring
and the mist of eyes is blinding
Borrowed color in my youth is gone
Sorrowed hope of the truth is done
bare in mind hope is still not in vane
Love and care of elders is not insane
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