The Turning of the Hands

In the flow of lonely rivers
as they whisper to the sea,
the sighs of seasons past
keep you ever close to me

and though the way be weary
when roads run to twists and bends,
in the pale glow of moonlight
we will meet when journey ends.

If time moves much too slowly,
then dreams move much too fast
and in the turning of the hands,
there we shall meet at last.

6 thoughts on “The Turning of the Hands

  1. My thanks, Diane,

    I appreciate you so much for stopping to visit with this one.
    It is one that almost wrote itself in the wee hours of
    a rainy night!


  2. F. G. M.

    Here is a litteral translation of your wonderful poem, you will notice that we need more words in French you need in English… I could try to write a non litteral translation using less words. This way, I will be closer of the beautiful and very moving subtlety and refinement of your poem! Vive la poésie 🙂

    Dans le flots des rivières solitaires
    comme elles murmurent auprès de la mer,
    les soupirs des saisons passées
    vous gardent toujours près de moi,

    et bien que le chemin soit difficile
    quand les routes vont de courbes en virage,
    à la lueur pâle de la lune, nous nous rencontrerons
    lorsque que le voyage sera terminé.

    Si le temps va trop lentement,
    alors les rêves passent trop vite,
    et dans le tour des aiguilles d’une horloge
    là, nous rencontrerons enfin.

  3. Dear Frédéric,

    You are so very kind to share the translation. Your language is so beautiful and I will
    post this version on the main page along with the original. When you have time, I would love if you would do a non-literal too. It will be helpful to me and to all who read it. Thank you a million times for all you do!


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