Nothing has changed except for time, and all time is measured by days and years, there are moments that seem eternal and there are years that seem like moments, these fleeting moments which evade us in the blink of an eye, meaningless moments which slip by unnoticed, totally unimportant to others, akin the space in time as the ticking of the second hand on the clock, second by second.
Time eludes, time forgives, and time makes changes while still leaving the scars behind, to be remembered in solitude, accompanied in serenade, by the soundless drift of a distant cloud above in the sky, on a blue bird day.
Why is it only you know the reasons. Oh now really, you say there are too many for you to iterate.
Yes only you know, so take it with you until the unveiling of time collaged
This shall be your thankless note on your departure, sans praise or recall.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem