The hour is timeless in space and vision,
The flowing of light is moving all on;
The breath and each feeling is above suspicion,
And waves of the light are soon all gone.
Each yearning like clouds that drift down to dark,
And decaying flowers grow not nor gain;
For light is all shifting in glowing and spark,
The flames that don't sparkle will burn out in vain.
Freshness of moments that come will not wait,
For each inspiration to gain its pound,
Empty space in hours is all dim and dull.
Idleness widens and tells you - you're too late,
What in hour's lost, never again be found,
Lives ignition lead, be burned out to full.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem