When I do count the hours
That tells the time of day
I see brave flowers
Sunk in hideous noon dismay
In lofty tree shake
I see barren of leaves
Autumn red, all girded up in sheaves
Then of thy beauty do, I question make
That thou among its design
The climate of time must go
Since seasons do themselves resign
And die as fast as they grow
© daniel miltz
The climate of time must go Since seasons do themselves resign.../// written beautifully
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A wonderfully crafted piece.....10++++