Frail

Look at how frail a newborn baby is. It can’t even lift its head up.  It can only cry and whine to get its basic needs – food and sleep. The good thing is that there will always be people who would want to carry it, to croon to it, to kiss it and to attend to its needs. The frailty of a baby is a beauty by itself.

Look at how frail an old woman or man is.  He/She can’t walk nor even stand on his/her own.  But he/she can’t cry and whine to get his/her basic needs.  He/She may sleep all day and may not eat for many days.  But the bad thing is there will be almost no one who would want to sit beside him/her, nor croon to him/her, nor kiss him/her, nor attend to his/her needs.  The frailty of an old person is a torment itself.

Love the poem by William Shakespeare:  The Seven Ages of Man

The Ages of Modern Man | Variations on normal by Dominic Wilcox

Shakespeare’s Seven Ages of Man

All the world’s a stage,
And all the men and women merely players,
They have their exits and entrances,
And one man in his time plays many parts,
His acts being seven ages. At first the infant,
Mewling and puking in the nurse’s arms.
Then, the whining schoolboy with his satchel
And shining morning face, creeping like snail
Unwillingly to school. And then the lover,
Sighing like furnace, with a woeful ballad
Made to his mistress’ eyebrow. Then a soldier,
Full of strange oaths, and bearded like the pard,
Jealous in honour, sudden, and quick in quarrel,
Seeking the bubble reputation
Even in the cannon’s mouth. And then the justice
In fair round belly, with good capon lin’d,
With eyes severe, and beard of formal cut,
Full of wise saws, and modern instances,
And so he plays his part. The sixth age shifts
Into the lean and slipper’d pantaloon,
With spectacles on nose, and pouch on side,
His youthful hose well sav’d, a world too wide,
For his shrunk shank, and his big manly voice,
Turning again towards childish treble, pipes
And whistles in his sound. Last scene of all,
That ends this strange eventful history,
Is second childishness and mere oblivion,
Sans teeth, sans eyes, sans taste, sans everything.

Read up on this website for the explanation.

http://quotations.about.com/cs/poemlyrics/a/Seven_Ages_Of_M.htm

 

 

Frail

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