Time

I keep walking, darkness keeps descending.
I keep thinking, darkness keeps descending.
No, this does not sadden my heart.

I was curious, I loved to read.
I didn't know many things, but I knew everything about certain things.
When I saw flowers falling, I could name each flower.
I knew which magic spreads joy, and which magic makes sorrow fall drop by drop.
I have seen how easily people forget, without feeling even a grain of forgetfulness's urging.
No, this does not sadden my heart.

I have spent days with the rain;
among those who grew sorrowful seeing water's grief,
I too was there, though you didn't notice.
How trees weep when even the last leaf falls—
I have watched this from very close.
I have seen the brave weep in fear,
and seen all the rest laugh together at them.
No, this does not sadden my heart.

I have walked through gardens,
stood before fountains, soaking my feet for long stretches,
seen countless ghostly forms burst into babbling laughter in some unknown ecstasy at all hours.
I have watched those who know nothing of love boast about their loving.
When they kept bowing endlessly in love's name,
at that very moment I saw the moon weep and ran away at once.
All the dreams of happiness I dreamed in first youth—
each one, in time, I forgot.
No, this does not sadden my heart.

I have wandered countless times through every lane and alley of my feelings,
and other people's feelings were mixed with mine.
Time passed quite pleasantly with all that.
I received many letters, and writing replies to them, sometimes, sometimes, my pen stopped.
Seeking to know the reason, I sat in prayer to God many, many times.
Each time I received people's greetings on my birthdays,
each time I understood that a living death hung before my eyes, waiting for oblivion.
No, thinking that the final moment was approaching, I felt no sorrow then.
In this life I have spent and saved so many words.
I have talked with people,
chatted with lampposts,
tried to understand what pictures say.
I have worn chains, I have broken chains.
Looking at people's hands, I could tell
which hands were born only to let go.
No, this does not sadden my heart.

I have gone from here to there,
returned from there to here.
On this path of coming and going I learned—
this world is everywhere, always ready to grow old.
However much I have lost from here,
exactly that much I have lost from there too.
The more attentive my inner mind became,
the more my outer mind leaned toward indifference.
Going to the sea, I saw
that however much vastness I contained, I had unknowingly become exactly that much indebted to the sea.
Cowering in fear of solitude,
I searched for people all my life.
Searching and searching, solitude only grew steadily.
I have seen some people dissolve into dust
who should have risen as monuments.
I have seen even sunlight show favoritism—
barred from entering certain homes.
In the bell-sound of stubborn solitude
my soul trembled again and again, though no one ever kept track.
No, this does not sadden my heart.

How many times fire caught in this body and went out again—
today I can't even remember it all.
When the moon rose, I would stare at it fixedly, and remember.
Whatever moonlight was lost against the sea's body,
I tried to sharpen myself by mixing that much darkness with my own soul.
No, this does not sadden my heart.

As long as I could, I lived fighting the river's endless current.
When the friendship of waves and current still couldn't defeat me,
I ruminated on unbearable memories, seeing the old tear-stains of water on the dry riverbed.
Even that rumination couldn't keep me alive in the end.
No, this does not sadden my heart.
When the time comes, all light turns to darkness.