Today will soon be a yesterday
As we take the wrapping off tomorrow
Diary pages are thumbed and then turned over
As the days become the weeks that follow
Weekends come and go with bright intervals
And intermissions of better things
But the months end still approaches
Calendars are slid over their binding rings
Autumns golden hues become the white of stark winter
And the sun struggles against the cold
But when the spring finally arrives
Crocuses and daffodils unfold
Rich pastures emerge in the summer
With the tranquil buzzing of bees
The sun shines down contentedly
Gentle breezes rustle trees
Then, as in a full circle
The year has passed us by
Autumn reappears before we know it
In the blinking of an eye
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem