Sometimes I arise at the dead of night
And take the clocks and stop them every one-
And yet- to be afraid of it- what boots it?
For mindful of its creatures all, Heaven in its own wisdom has ordained it so.
(Sung by the Marschallin in Der Rosenkavalier, Richard Strauss and Hugo von Hofmannsthal)
Stopping the wood and metal clock is one way of dealing with time and change. But there is also pride and strength that come with the acceptance of the coming hours. I know my fruits will eventually dry out. But as the Marschallin is saying, only the mirror shows it to as. In me my veins are pumping, throbbing, expecting still. I know, I can feel how precious this time is. How short. So meaningless compared to history, compared to the memories of men I hold in me and study.
Yes, old age is looming, oblivion and ugly death as well. But I am full of fire.