Apalagi kalau si janda Madonna, B. Spears, J. Lopes atau Beyonce.. DH
--- In [email protected], "Kartono Mohamad" <[EMAIL PROTECTED]> wrote: > > Kalau ada janda sangat tua tetapi kaya raya, saya mau deh. > KM > > -------Original Message------- > > From: [email protected] > Date: 12/08/06 08:49:40 > To: [email protected] > Subject: [ppiindia] Inilah janda yang perlu dikawini > > When an old lady died in the geriatric ward of a small hospital near > Dundee, Scotland, it was believed that she had nothing left of any > value. Later, when the nurses were going through her meager > possessions, they found this poem. Its quality and content so > impressed the staff that copies were made and distributed to every > nurse in the hospital. One nurse took her copy to Ireland. The old > lady's sole bequest to posterity has since appeared in the Christmas > edition of the News Magazine of the North Ireland Association for > Mental Health. A slide presentation has also been made based on her > simple, but eloquent, poem. And this little old Scottish lady, with > nothing left to give to the world, is now the author of this > "anonymous" poem winging across the Internet: > > Crabby Old Woman > > What do you see, nurses? > What do you see? > What are you thinking > When you're looking at me? > > A crabby old woman, > Not very wise? > Uncertain of habit, > With faraway eyes? > > Who dribbles her food > And makes no reply > When you say in a loud voice, > "I do wish you'd try!" > > Who seems not to notice > The things that you do, > And forever is losing > A stocking or two. > > Who, resisting or not, > Lets you do as you will, > With bathing and feeding, > The long day to fill? > > Is that what you're thinking? > Is that what you see? > Then open your eyes, nurse, > You're not looking at me. > > I'll tell you who I am > As I sit here so still, > As I do at your bidding, > As I eat at your will. > > I'm a small child of ten > With a father and mother, > Brothers and sisters, > Who love one another. > > A young girl of sixteen > With wings on her feet > Dreaming that soon now > A lover she'll meet. > > A bride soon at twenty, > My heart gives a leap, > Remembering the vows > That I promised to keep > > At twenty-five now, > I have young of my own, > Who need me to guide > And a secure happy home. > > A woman of thirty, > My young now grown fast, > Bound to each other > With ties that should last. > > At forty, my young sons > Have grown and are gone, > But my man's beside me > To see I don't mourn. > > At fifty once more, > Babies play round my knee, > Again we know children, > My loved one and me. > > Dark days are upon me, > My husband is dead, > I look at the future, > I shudder with dread. > > For my young are all rearing > Young of their own, > And I think of the years > And the love that I've known > > I'm now an old woman > And nature is cruel; > 'Tis jest to make old age > Look like a fool. > > The body, it crumbles, > Grace and vigor depart, > There is now a stone > Where I once had a heart. > > But inside this old carcass > A young girl still dwells, > And now and again, > My battered heart swells. > > I remember the joys, > I remember the pain, > And I'm loving and living > Life over again. > > I think of the years > All too few, gone too fast, > And accept the stark fact > That nothing can last. > > So open your eyes, people, > Open and see, > Not a crabby old woman; > Look closer, see ME! > > [Non-text portions of this message have been removed] > > > > > > [Non-text portions of this message have been removed] >
