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I live by the “Purple Principle“, which for me is a blend of two poems that I’ve mushed together to label how I feel in my post 40 life.  I call these my Purple years.  With purple being my favorite color, it rather suits me.  The two poems are “I will wear Purple” and “Moments“.  “Moments” is a more literal fit..and the idea of “purple” is a more emotional fit. I already regret many losses but I’m doing my best to minimize the ones I’ll have from my purple years.

*Moments*    (Translated from Spanish)

If I could live my life again.
Next time, I would try to make more mistakes.
I would not try to be so perfect, I would relax more.
I would be sillier than I have been.
I would take fewer things seriously.
I would be less fastidious.
Accept more risks,
I would take more trips, Contemplate more evenings,
Climb more mountains, and swim more rivers...
I would go to more places where I have not been,
Eat more ice cream and fewer beans.
I would have more real problems and less imaginary ones.
I was one of those people who lived
sensibly and meticulously every minute of their life.
Of course I have had moments of happiness.
But if I could go back in time, I would try to
have good moments only,
and not waste precious time.
I was someone who never went
anywhere without a thermometer,
a hot water bag, an umbrella and a parachute.
If I could live again, I would travel more frivolously.
If I could live again, I would begin
to walk barefoot at the beginning of the spring
and I would continue to do so until the end of autumn.
I would ride more merry-go-rounds,
I would contemplate more evenings and
I would play with more children.
If I could have another life ahead.
But I am 85 years old you see, and I know that I am dying.

*WHEN I AM AN OLD WOMAN I SHALL WEAR PURPLE*    

With a red hat which doesn’t go, and doesn’t suit me.
And I shall spend my pension on brandy and summer gloves
And satin sandals, and say we’ve no money for butter.
I shall sit down on the pavement when I’m tired
And gobble up samples in shops and press alarm bells
And run my stick along the public railings
And make up for the sobriety of my youth.
I shall go out in my slippers in the rain
And pick the flowers in other people’s gardens
And learn to spit

You can wear terrible shirts and grow more fat
And eat three pounds of sausages at a go
Or only bread and pickle for a week
And hoard pens and pencils and beermats and things in boxes

But now we must have clothes that keep us dry
And pay our rent and not swear in the street
And set a good example for the children.
We must have friends to dinner and read the papers.

But maybe I ought to practice a little now?
So people who know me are not too shocked and surprised
When suddenly I am old, and start to wear purple.



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