Only when it is available to waste,
Is time then considered to be precious.
And those who say,
They wish they had more of it...
To do those things they find the time to excuse,
Are the first to acknowledge...
How pressed for time they are,
After wining and dining their druthers away.
With no thought of giving time to do this at all.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem