If you are yet sprightly,
But with fear saddled upon your heart;
Bearing weightily on your self-will
And encumbering your every step,
Then stand before a mirror and look closely
You will find that thou art no youth.
If you cling onto a ship
Beaten helplessly by the gale
And you hear the captain within you give the order: ‘Abandon ship! Abandon ship!’
But still, you hold on,
Dreading the uncertain deep
Thou art no youth.
If you think only of gain
If you think not of pain
Of life’s fair commerce
Then you are truly an old man at harvest
For youth is the sowing fest.
If thou arose with the day In celebration of today And if thine heart harbors not doubt, nor fear
Nor hold onto yesterday, so dear
Then in truth
Thou art a youth.