In a quiet corner of the room, stood the wall clock
With a swinging pendulum, but no cuckoo to talk
It ticked and it tocked, a relentless sound
Not of birdsong, but of time's unyielding bound
The pendulum swung, striking the box with might
A rhythmic reminder of day turning into night
Its message clear, time slipping away
Urging us to hasten, to seize the day
During study hours, its pace would slow
Only to quicken when playtime would show
A game it seemed to play, a sly jest
Teasing us to work, to give our best
In childhood's innocence, carefree and pure
No need to rush, no need to endure
No race against the clock, no need to flee
Just living in the moment, wild and free
But one day, the clock met its end
No amount of fixing could it mend
Its pendulum stilled, its voice hushed
A battle lost, a legacy crushed
Oh, how I missed that swinging beat
The noise that broke the silence neat
A melody of time, a rhythm so sweet
A childhood echo, a memory to greet
A new clock took its place, silent and still
Telling time only at our will
No pendulum swinging, no noise to hear
Just a silent observer, a timekeeper near
And so the days passed, measured and unseen
By a clock that hung, impartial and keen
Timing our lives, ticking away
A silent witness, to night and day.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem