Як боляче, як важко де розказувать, Та гірко ж і мовчати, — так і так болить - Aeschylus

The default
Of one vote only bringeth ruin deep,
One, cast aright, may stablish house and home.

Μήτ᾽ ἀνάρχετον βίον
μήτε δεσποτούμενον
αἰνέσῃς.
παντὶ μέσῳ τὸ κράτος
θεὸς ὤπασεν.

We are the old, dishonoured ones,
the broken husks of men.
Even then they cast us off,
the rescue mission left us here
to prop a child's strength upon a stick.
What if the new sap rises in his chest?
He has no soldiery in him,
no more than we,
and we are the aged past ageing,
gloss of the leaf shrivelled,
three legs at a time we falter on.
Old men are children once again,
a dream that sways and wavers
into the hard light of day.