Time Does Not Forgive

Time is a ghost, Santiago,

says the passionate poet.

Time, dear old friend,

rushes by.

One day you wake up and find

all the years of the world

on your shoulders.

I, who have claimed nothing from life,

watch it pass

at the speed of Helios.

Suddenly,

I pee more often and in dribbles,

my teeth grow fewer,

my hair turns white,

everything aches,

I need glasses, I forget things,

and I fart all the time.

The lust and fire

of youthful years

have taken a one-way trip.

My virility looks like a rag—

worn,

discarded in a corner,

without pardon,

forgetting the vigor of old times.

I stand before the mirror, Santiago—

damn it!

I barely recognize

this old bastard

who smiles back at me.

Time does not forgive.