The world is heavy on our eyelids - Leah Goldberg

The years have made up my face
with memories of loves
and have adorned my hair with light silver threads
making me most beautiful.
In my eyes are reflected
the landscapes.
And paths I have trod
have straightened my stride –
tired and lovely steps.
If you should see me now
you would not recognize your yesterdays –
I am walking toward myself
with a face you searched for in vain
when I was walking toward you.

How the passing of Time tries me,
its double reckoning my duty and my right:
Every day it constructs and ruins me
completing thus my life and my death.

death. Its weight is not great.
How lightly and with what casual grace
we carry it with us everywhere we go.