Time moves slowly,
creeping soundly,
crawling o’er the ages coldly.
All our hopes and all our dreams,
want it changed without a doubt.
E’en so, young minds want it gone,
begging school, be over
and summers grace to flourish.
Then short time later, children mourn
school's vengeful return.
Lovers bearing spangled eyes,
cast gazes to their heart's owners.
For a night together in each others arms,
the words forever and ever are heard,
neither loud or in a whisper.
When years have passed,
and age comes about,
the elders, old and sickly,
want time to rewind and youth to return,
for life to be renewed.
For all their hopes,
and all their dreams,
attempts are all left futile.
Time will ebb and time will flow,
but only of its own will.
But every so often,
if ever it can be,
a being's hopes shed fruit.
A life of happiness and joy,
when time's sweet mercy prevails.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem