GENTLENESS OF the 60

Oh what gentleness,
oh what longing,
of all that madness
when she lived in the youth.

What had to give everything I gave,
handing my over heart,
I was betrayed well I know it,
it began my passion.

Others I survived madnesses
well far from the birth-place
I never forgot friends
not even my beloved Portugal.

They were so many etapes
through what in the life I went,
many floods of difficulties
but you link all that I won.

When I think that I grew old
without frontiers of solitude,
I remove of me that I suffered,
I stroke the feathers of heart.

Wrinkles were created,
losing his youth
the hair was turning white
when the virtue is in me.

Half turned century is
and to the life I am still tied,
the alone rest God will know,
and the sixty exceeded.

Who I was and what I am,
it is the gentleness of the sixty
to be a father and to be a grandfather
walking for the seventy.

I do not live on nostalgia,
and I am surviving the present
I revise everything what was writing
always with contentment.

I want to bring to the grandchildren
my life, my experience,
with them I want to distribute
all my existence.

I do not know when I will leave,
but that does not matter already
perhaps I will leave longings
under my door.

With gentleness I am living
in this new youth,
and gradually weakening
in the arms of the third age.

Who in the life could not love
little or nothing has to say,
but remembering is always good
since living was ours.

I had time and survived it
with the whole his illusion,
I did not lose this youth
I take it in heart.