A mirror

These are my seven days of sorrow,
In morning grief and mourning of the night
Go hand in hand with people by my side,
Like ghosts or shadows – prisoners of light.
My first day was the day of birth,
The second is the glimpse of childhood,
With stupid schoolboy comes the third,
And the fourth, being on the hills though sailing slowly,
Is when I fall for someone I don’t care.
The fifth goes marriage’s nightmare,
With children of my own the sixth day passes lonely,
And finally, with marasmatic old man
Will be my seventh day of sorrow,
The happiest of my eternal life.
I had my seven days of glory
With music bright and shining death ahead,
With cruel mocks on other people’s faces,
With kicks, distresses, envy in my heart,
Hostility in mind and smile attached so nicely
To mask of mine;
With all of this I lived my glory days …
And wish them gone for good …
While heart mine still is beating …