‘You are old Bücker Jungmann,’ The young man said,
'And your paintwork is no longer bright,
Yet I see that you constantly stagger aloft,
Do you think at your age that it’s right?’

‘Yes I’m old,’ smiled the Jungmann, ‘As you observe
Yet you’re missing the pertinent thought,
Were it not for its age no antique would deserve
All the money for which it is bought.’

‘But you’re old AND outdated,’ The young man frowned,
‘And your instruments ancient and plain
Tell me, how can you navigate so close to the ground
Without using a digital brain?’

‘In my youth,’ yawned the Jungmann,
‘Pilots could fly Using stopwatch and compass and map.
And I’m teaching them still to be Kings of the Sky,
Now be off…while I’m taking a nap.’