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The years have dyed his head with gray hair, they demonstrate the battles and achievements that that old man with kind eyes and wrinkled face has reaped during his 80 years...
From his hand he carries the greatest feat told by his sweet voice, a lady with cotton hair and a slow voice, both are presumed as the one who finds that treasure that is only found once in a lifetime, the one that we all avoid because we are busy on more superficial things.
The sweet years of old age are accompanied by the stories of each other, a hand that looks for the other every morning and 2 cups that come together every afternoon to enjoy the sunset, to be envious of this would be to waste such a feeling. vain in something so sublime.
