On Growing Old

If I have left people behind and chosen distance, don't blame me; my excuse is plain to see. Time has bent my back, after the days when I walked tall, my body straight as a swaying green branch. For so long I leapt fearlessly upon the lions of the thicket; now I am left dreading even the little foxes. How can I take pleasure now, after the days of youth? Life is spent, and its two sweetest things have passed away.