It watches them
Slowly, day by day;
Never aged,
Never disappointing,
Always disheartened.
It counts the days they have left,
Tallied in a series on monotone clicks.
Never emotional,
Never comforting,
Always exact.
It watched the young one die,
Along with the eldest.
Yet, it only ticks on.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem