Solon to the old man:

ah, old man,
do you ever stop dreaming?
even when you know,
unlike before, in your youth,
now that your time is over,
whatever you are dreaming
cannot become reality
because time is running out,
do you no longer dream
about what might be,
or rather,
what might have been?

Old man:

oh no, oh no,
dreaming is a gift forever;
it defies what more subjective folks
rely upon as truth;
when truth is, in reality,
what we choose it to be,
while
dreaming is what could be,
will be, is;
even now,
when i cannot make it happen,
i can dream
about wonderful things,
and
if i stop dreaming,
i fear i will be dead
before dying.

Solon to the old man:

 ah, dream on.