Slowly, hour-by-hour I go
Watching life go to and fro
Biding my time, waiting my turn
Patience, as ever, has to be learned;
Gently, the time flows like a river
Days like arrows pulled from a quiver
Then shot high through the blackened sky
Beside the stars, only to fall and die;
It is coming now, it will get here soon
As surely as the phases of the moon
It will get here and settle by me
Wrap its arms around and set me free.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem