But not all is lost, it does not wither.
It is I, the old one, who has gathered years,
While someone is only beginning to live,
Flew to Earth yesterday.

Sound and light amaze him,
The taste of milk and the scent of bodies,
The wide world lures him unaccustomedly,
Quite a few schools await.

And I have sifted, selected the best —
An appendix for the newborn.
In heaven it is easier, for them here it is harder.
This is not the end — the beginning.