Time, winking on the clock, says to me,
'Don't wait for me, for I won't come back.
Tomorrow never comes to cope you plant a tree,
To pluck fruits of ripe days with a bending back.
Walk with me as I walk, wait for none,
For None'll share his fruit when you die of hunger.
Feel on cheeks the bygone days of your fun;
You are in those funny days no longer.
See your age of tender days - won't come 'gain.
Be not 'fraid of burning of the wick fast;
Give light and dispel darkness of other's pain,
Muster courage to withstand gale like the main mast.
Be happy to change your dress when I indicate;
Come back 'gain with new garb without any late.'
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem