Let me
be the last
I'll be  patient
in timeliness
I trust-

gentleness
my hand it grasps
and whispers:
'Why rush?
The dawn
is not yet
the rose
hasn't risen
from the dewy grass
in slumber
still is the thrush

silent is the river
calm is its water
no boatman seen
all nature is serene
time is hushed-

are you in love?
She will appear
you should wait
trust her, you must!'

( It's as though
  I've wakened
  from a dream
  so long past)

I know
and feel sure
  I'll be blessed
though being last-
in oneness with time
in feeling its every pulse
my life will be in joy
abundantly cast.