Hours pass

Now: Hours passGoogle Translate.

A few hours later,
Carefully, I do not hear their steps;
Touch me gently with your finger
I’ll find a dream or die.

However, their flight can be anyway,
I continue to press my heart with tears.
These add-ons will bring me deep damage,
It’s been a good time for many years.

Was: The Passing of the Hours – Ella Higginson.

The hours steal by with still, unasking lips—
So lightly that I cannot hear their tread;
And softly touch me with their finger-tips
To find if I be dreaming, or be dead.

And yet however still their flight may be,
Their ceaseless going weights my heart with tears;
These touches will have wrought deep scars on me—
When the light hours have worn to heavy years.

Posted in Art

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