tick tock! the hands of time;
their clicking chorus counting away
like oars, they row in farewell mime;
for the day's spent that wears gray
the night comes clothed in shuddery art
to etch imagery on household walls;
watering the seed of dread-our heart of heart
till little courage left to its spell falls
with light and shade falling in place;
at the lightning's flickering light
our panic-stricken state of haze;
stares frozen still with stripped sight
but in time!
we read the art two things we know:
early rise troubles the night;
and the light of dawn, its darling foe
tarries not when time's right
shall sleep not have our cuddly frame
when darkness shrouds a fainting night?
sleep shall yes have our cuddly frame
till darkness melts in morning bright
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem