The poem
The days of our future stand in front of us like a row of little lit candles -- golden, warm, and lively little candles.
The days past remain behind us, a mournful line of extinguished candles; the ones nearest are still smoking, cold candles, melted, and bent.
I do not want to look at them; their form saddens me, and it saddens me to recall their first light. I look ahead at my lit candles.
I do not want to turn back, lest I see and shudder at how fast the dark line lengthens, at how fast the extinguished candles multiply.
What a lovely poem - I wonder if there are any other simile poems of this nature which I could look at?
..well, wish i could have this poem in the greek (demotiki) original.