Had we no downpour, uninterrupted
Of corrosive time to fill
Each hour-glass with, of the early ripeness
No change thereround would chill.
Had we not been, by that pendulum
Swinging high from east to west
Induced to brood on births and deaths
From life's race they'd be a rest.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem