I do not know what to do with my time
I try to write
I look out the window at the too yellow leaves
I know it is hot outside
I wait until the time comes for Minchah
I write these lines
I think again and again
What makes a life meaningful?
How can I help my wife?
I wait to go and pray
I write these lines
I do with my time what I do with my time
My life is passing as if it is a dream
In the mind of someone else
I cannot ever really know or remember-
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem