He is the spark of every beginning,
and the shadow of every end.
The sentinel. The door.
The moment to defend.
He looks into your past
and sees right through your end.
The time-changer. The guardian.
The clock we try to rend.
In this instance, he’s with you,
whether you can pretend ….
He is this very moment
and his time is round.
He is always there with you,
because he is the here and now.
The first month of the year,
where his name doth appear.
Yet we forget the wheel -
the very one he rears.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
nice very nice but I am still unable to reach the real approach of you. for whom you have made this lovely composition?