It's of a sudden I wake,
have overslept, you've all gone.
If I'd waked earlier - grasped the moment
while it was there.
If I'd stirred and risen earlier
it was the morning of your lives,
instead I had little time to spare.
Too late I want to recall you all
give you all my time it's yours to take
use as you wished then and now.
You're all long since scattered in life's wind,
the years passed, moments flown.
But I grasp and gather them now,
each one - store them in this morning's delight
to fill me with the joy of their remembrance.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem