the bones have turned to dusts
and no one is there anymore to tell
how the earth has changed
now covered with rocks and grass
Time
the teller
and soothsayer
of truth
the finder of the lost thoughts
the ant at the end of the maze
the light at the end of this
labyrinth
why are your days too slow?
your years are the growth of islands and continents
your cliffs rise and mountains
begin to touch the hands of the sun
everything is done
and still unfinished
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem