Everywhere we go
There is something new
Directions to and fro
Always coming through
The times to remember
In hours long lost
All the many embers
Of earth's wounded rust
Living day by day
In varieties oppress
Came as it may
With stupor and caress
Behind the time-table
Its work is brought
With what it's then able
From the ways it’s taught
Losing credibility
From its palpably project
Needing more simplicity
Not to be in neglect
Walking increasing speed
Time is of importance
Between words then read
Something is left for a chance
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem