给十年后的我To Myself, Ten Years From Now

The things you've done these ten years

can you take pride in them, no regrets?

The things you believed in back then

they haven't been shaken, have they?

Has the one you were meant for, has fate, shown up by now?

And what you've made of yourself—not too shabby, is it?

Along the way you've gathered so much you've lived through

but have you let your edges get worn away?

Have you gone soft?

You've grown up—you haven't lost your style, have you?

Is the stubbornness of the old days still there?

The blade hasn't gone dull, has it?

Have you turned worldly-wise?

Would you rather be clever than headlong now?

But stopping to think twice at every step—doesn't it wear you out?

Are you happy?

You still remember the promise you made to me, don't you?

Over a handful of wins and losses

you shouldn't have gone numb, right?

Are you happy?

Have you let go of your dreams, with only living left to keep you busy?

Don't wait too late—another ten years, and only then think of being happy?