נפתלי פרימור, שירתי

A Seventy years old talks to an eighty years old
They know each other for many years
Poets
But for the last several years poetry is no longer an issue
The horror of time's passing gets stronger every day
What's left is divided into various diseases
There are surgeons and pharmacists
But poetry is an extension of life
It’s a renaissance of forgotten love
It brings me again to a place I have been
It revives situations that never came
I starve to keep contact with reality
As the Earth is losing its partner for life
And the moon says goodbye
Decay and destruction take their toll
The arrow of time overwhelms
My desire for poetry is gone.