Woman s age

I like to read the proverb in the books:
"A woman is as old as she looks…"
I gaze at the reflection in my mirror long
And wonder if the proverb’s right or wrong.

My curiosity and frank examination
Do not deny this wise determination
The wheels of time, the wheels of fate
Have left imprints on my appearance so great

Where is the brightness of my eyes,
And did it vanish due to sighs and cries?
Where is the flame on cheeks, the smooth of  forehead,
The innocence of smile and thoughts, directed forward?

Where is my gait that I was proud of
With aspiration, grace, like toff?
Where is my quick step and my eager glance,
So often I was ready with my friends to dance!

All’s gone. Only the slow walse and tango are left
They don’t need much passion, but they give me rest.
Protest songs, rock had thrilled me once to tears,
But now classic, folk songs ring in my ears.

I watch this evolution in my colleague, too
It has a sad and disappointed hue.
For I’m sure: deep in her heart
She wants to be much younger, slim and smart

The students feel her kindness, care and love
It helps them just to live, to study, to improve
They think she’s their friend, but older and sage
And so they don’t mind at all her age.