Time Is Our Enemy Poem by Baris Bavkir
Time Is Our Enemy
Seasons pass by while I still.
It is neither the zephyr, blowing shrill,
That gives me the thrill.
Nor the coldness of a winter chill,
Which makes me ill.
It is the time; with a relentless will,
That breezes through my window sill.
Friday, August 23, 2013
POET'S NOTES ABOUT THE POEM
These lines represent the out cry, the reprehension of an Oriental boy who has to live his love with his Italian girl friend seperated from each other in different countries. Despite of every severity they have to bear, time is the only efficient that hurts the most
READ THIS POEM IN OTHER LANGUAGES
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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5/3/2024 1:55:02 PM # 1.0.0.1119
The poems sounds good, but notes here clear more a picture about two hearts..it is a beautiful poem indeed_Soul