Boon enough for being born
Bring clouds or azure, joy or tears;
Already a full cup I've quaffed;
Already wept and loved and laughed,
And seen, in ever-endless ways,
New beauties overwhelm the days.
Life owes me nought. No pain that waits
Can steal the wealth from memory's gates;
No aftermath of anguish slow
Can quench the soul fire's early glow.
I breathe, exulting, each new breath,
Embracing Life, ignoring Death.
Life owes me nothing. One clear morn
Is boon enough for being born;
And be it ninety years or ten,
No need for me to question when.
While Life is mine, I'll find it good,
And greet each hour with gratitude.
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