Daughter of Time, the hypocrite Days,
Muffled and dumb like barefoot dervishes,
And marching single in an read more

Daughter of Time, the hypocrite Days,
Muffled and dumb like barefoot dervishes,
And marching single in an endless file,
Bring diadems and fagots in their hands;
To each they offer gifts after his will,
Bread, kingdom, stars, and sky that holds them all;
I, in my pleached garden watched the pomp
Forgot my morning wishes, hastily
Took a few herbs and apples, and the Day
Turned and departed silent. I too late
Under her solemn fillet saw the scorn.

The better day, the worse deed.

The better day, the worse deed.

All comes out even at the end of the day.

All comes out even at the end of the day.

When I stand before thee at the day's end, thou shalt see my scars and know that I had my read more

When I stand before thee at the day's end, thou shalt see my scars and know that I had my wounds and also my healing.

For there is no day however beautiful that is not followed by
night.
[Fr., Car il n'est si read more

For there is no day however beautiful that is not followed by
night.
[Fr., Car il n'est si beau jour qui n'amene sa nuit.]

You can become blind by seeing each day as a similar one. Each day is a different one, each day read more

You can become blind by seeing each day as a similar one. Each day is a different one, each day brings a miracle of its own. It's just a matter of paying attention to this miracle.

My days are swifter than a weaver's shuttle, and are spent
without hope.

My days are swifter than a weaver's shuttle, and are spent
without hope.

Every day may not be good... but there's something good in every day.

Every day may not be good... but there's something good in every day.

Days that need borrow
No part of their good morrow,
From a fore-spent night of sorrow.

Days that need borrow
No part of their good morrow,
From a fore-spent night of sorrow.