Один старик находился в доме престарелых последние дни своей жизни.
После смерти, все считали, что он ушел из жизни не оставив в ней ценного следа.
Когда медсестры начали разбирать его скудные пожитки, наткнулись на интересное стихотворение, которое поразило работников своим содержанием и смыслом.
Одна из сотрудниц взяла копию в Мельбурн.
C тех пор, его стихотворение появилось в в Рождественских журналах по всей стране, а также в журналах для психологов.
И этот старик, который нищим ушел из жизни в Богом забытом городке в Австралии, теперь взрывает интернет глубиной своей души. (Приводим дословный перевод на русский. В английском оригинале стих звучит очень поэтично и поражает глубиной мысли и красотой рифмы).
What do you see nurses?. . . . . . What do you see?
What are you thinking. . . when you're looking at me?
A cranky old man,. . . . . . not very wise,
Uncertain of habit. . . . . . . . . . with faraway eyes?
Who dribbles his food. . . …. . and makes no reply.
When you say in a loud voice. . 'I do wish you'd try!'
Who seems not to notice. . . the things that you do.
And forever is losing. . . . . . . . . A sock or shoe?
Who, resisting or not. . . . . . lets you do as you will,
With bathing and feeding. . . . The long day to fill?
Is that what you're thinking?.. Is that what you see?
Then open your eyes, nurse.. you're not looking at me.
I'll tell you who I am. . . . . . As I sit here so still,
As I do at your bidding,. . . . . as I eat at your will.
I'm a small child of Ten. . with a father and mother,
Brothers and sisters. . . . . . . who love one another
A young boy of Sixteen. . . . . with wings on his feet
Dreaming that soon now. . . .. . a lover he'll meet.
A groom soon at Twenty. . . . .my heart gives a leap.
Remembering, the vows. . . . . that I promised to keep.
At Twenty-Five, now. . . . . I have young of my own.
Who need me to guide. . . And a secure happy home.
A man of Thirty. . . . . . . My young now grown fast,
Bound to each other. . . . With ties that should last.
At Forty, my young sons. .. have grown and are gone,
But my woman is beside me. . to see I don't mourn.
At Fifty, once more,. . . . . Babies play 'round my knee,
Again, we know children. . . . My loved one and me.
Dark days are upon me. . . . My wife is now dead.
I look at the future. . . . . . . I shudder with dread.
For my young are all rearing. .. . young of their own.
And I think of the years. . . And the love that I've known.
I'm now an old man. . . . . . . . and nature is cruel.
It's jest to make old age. . . . . . . look like a fool.
The body, it crumbles. . . .. grace and vigour, depart.
There is now a stone. . . where I once had a heart.
But inside this old carcass. A young man still dwells,
And now and again. . . . . my battered heart swells
I remember the joys. . . . . . . I remember the pain.
And I'm loving and living. . . . . . . life over again.
I think of the years, all too few. . . . gone too fast.
And accept the stark fact. . . that nothing can last.
So open your eyes, people. . . . . . . . . open and see.
Not a cranky old man.. .
Look closer.. . . see.. . . . ME!!