We have heard the chimes at midnight,
We have sailed the ocean blue.
We have seen the Hanging Gardens,
Now what else is left to do?
We have swum in the same river,
At the break and close of day.
We’ve had sev’ral bouts of fever,
When the sun shone we made hay.
We have loved when Love called to us,
We have hated, raged and fought.
We have drunk some potent brews,
And we have sinned in deed and thought.
Now the stars have lost their twinkle,
And the moon is on the wane.
Our brows are lined with wrinkles,
And our hair has turned quite grey.
We have heard the midnight clock strike,
And the weeping willow sigh.
Now the grave is our next cradle,
For all that’s left’s to die.
20/2/09
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem