In the stillness of night
The chiming clock sings the hours.
Eyes in deep sleep don’t hear them anymore
Care not in the clock’s rhymes what’s in store,
But it knows its chimes are songs of dirge
For life’s harvest and then the down surge,
And it’s a mere witness in this open-n-shut game,
Its chimes a reminder of time it can’t tame.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem