Being an elderly man I still go around and learned, I do not keep rancor to my past life, I only remember the verses recited to express everything where there was a love, who analyzing a little perhaps can not be repeated, and is that I wonder:
The past, past is, and now that more exhausted I am, if I see the end of the way. Transit from this endless road, perhaps more can never be repeated, perhaps for some it seems a set of rhymes that speak the truth, and that luck that was thrown out, and there is only one old betrayal, and at the end of the written path it is left .
Today with the experience of having walked so much and so much, and feel the end so close but without strength to get, I can say with certainty that a dawn dies today, it seems that time is over, I feel like no resentment of the past no longer I can fight against that past that good and bad things left me, how much I would like to feel young, wanting to want to eat the world to undertake another trip with another long end than this one whose way is over.
Sometimes I think about the fortunate of that walker who achieves new dreams that help free all the pain of past memories, with differences that mark illusions that intact should remain, but reality is another, is the reality that shows me the end of the way Long transiting. He still has not said all my heart, and before the story of my life, as I deny it, if denying it would be sadder than my own past.
Life in destinations for long paths always lead us to an explanation, between my past and the end of the way I find myself, a life full of wakes, uncertain, attachments, loves, disappointments. First of all I recognize that it was always worth walking to this point, but without never repenting of the traces that I was leaving behind, today I say to my uncertain past that did not keep it, but who accepts that the best thing was not to go back towards where it was.
To the new generations I leave marked the path of my long road, so that they will fill it from their illusions, their experiences, their successes and deactress, but for good or evil their own traces that delimit their own reflections When they are at the end of the goal, which is nothing more than the end of the way than its own interests determine.
I hope that the reading of this narrative dialogue between the past and the elderly that goes through that endless path, be it from all of you, inviting them to reflect on which way to choose with us, where we trace our own experiences, which for good or bad that these are, will help us leave our own traces, to generate the necessary confidence at the end of our own lives to be satisfied with what we have done and left as a legacy.