Counting minutes in June
Waiting for rain
Blooming flowers stayed doom.
Running up again and again
I have lost my time
And saving me I became happy.
Passing everything to pass
In hurry I claimed not mine
And finding there is no time
I am not mine not mine.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Losing and wasting time, not stopping to see where we are, always on a hurry to go nowhere. Fine poem well written and expressed