Mine eyes still pleasure in young spring flowers
La musica que toca de joventud
My feet still dance in pace
The heart still patters with lustful desire
My hands can still gently caress
Why is life portrayed as only belonging
to those whose face is without aging folds
When the scent of estrogen abounds
within the world of mine surrounds
those shallow youth filled thoughts
still stimulate my male desires
but with the knowledge of age accrues
Que mas profundo la vida es
Now I awaken ‘ parar, a las rosas oler’
I listen to the pebbles crunching underneath my feet
as I walk along life’s path
still pleasure in those things of life
that traditionally one is told to surrender
yet still living, now vicariously,
through some of my youthful past
