Answer:
The title of being young
Explanation:
The given question refers to the poem <em>The survivor</em> by Marilyn Chin:
Don’t tap your chopsticks against your bowl.
Don’t throw your teacup against the wall in anger.
Don’t suck on your long black braid and weep.
Don’t tarry around the big red sign that says
“danger!”
All the tempests will render still; seas will calm,
horses will retreat, voices to surrender.
That you have bloomed this way and not that,
that your skin is yellow, not white, not black
that you were born not a boy-child but a girl,
that this world will be forever puce-pink are just as well.
Remember, the survivor is not the strongest
or most clever;
merely, the survivor is almost always the youngest.
And you shall have to relinquish that title
before long.
When we look at the entire poem, we can conclude that what the lines 15-16 are talking about is the title of being young (lines 12-14). <em>To relinquish something </em>means <em>to give it up, to surrender it.</em> No one is forever young, and at some point, we all have to give up that title that will go to the young generations that follow us, the generations of new survivors.
