You have shared with me the day. Now the day is done
The pointing finger of the clock has ticked and having ticked, moved on
And on my dear, through year after year
Summer after summer. Laughter after tear
But isn't it a day to remember, by the fireside of our evening?
That what was bad wasn't half so bad, upon its leaving
But what was good was God given, and given with his blessing
The sleeping children, having slept, moved on beyond possessing
And now we sit contented by the fireside of our day
And time, you swift elusive hare, how fast you slipped away
Well dear, I know your sleepy, but I simply want to say
This is the perfect evening to a very perfect day
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem