| [00:00.13] |
Those that have gone have gone for good, |
| [00:02.73] |
those to come keep coming; |
| [00:05.04] |
yet in between, |
| [00:06.62] |
how swift is the shift, |
| [00:08.62] |
in such a rush? |
| [00:10.00] |
When I get up in the morning, |
| [00:11.22] |
the slanting sun marks its presence in my small room in two or three oblongs. |
| [00:16.14] |
The sun has feet, |
| [00:17.67] |
look, he is treading on, |
| [00:19.34] |
lightly and furtively; |
| [00:20.77] |
and I am caught, |
| [00:21.88] |
blankly, in his revolution. |
| [00:23.25] |
Thus - |
| [00:24.45] |
The day flows away through the sink when I wash my hands, |
| [00:27.14] |
wears off in the bowl when I eat my meal, |
| [00:29.85] |
and passes away before my day-dreaming gaze as I reflect in silence. |
| [00:32.97] |
I can feel his haste now, |
| [00:36.95] |
so I reach out my hands to hold him back, |
| [00:39.54] |
but he keeps flowing past out my withholding hands. |
| [00:41.99] |
In the evening, |
| [00:43.02] |
as I lie in bed, |
| [00:44.05] |
he strides over my body, |
| [00:45.66] |
glides past my feet, |
| [00:47.18] |
in his agile way. |
| [00:48.61] |
The moment I open my eyes and meet the sun again, |
| [00:51.21] |
one whole day has gone. |
| [00:53.38] |
I bury my face in my hands and heave a sigh. |
