Much sooner comes the Winter now,
the racing clock tics on my wall.
Another wrinkle on my brow,
another Summer, Spring and Fall.

I try to hold the moment's peace,
much sooner comes the Winter now.
So I find solace in release,
and throw away the holly bough

I’m no longer reined to the plough,
and time is not my enemy.
Much sooner comes the Winter now,
but fonder is the memory

Of breaths I take, how many more?
What e'er the seasons will allow.
Adrift am I towards any shore,
much sooner comes the Winter now.

*Empat Empat
Early form of rhyming verse from Malaysia.
8 or 10 syllables per line.
A. b. a. b.
c. A. c. a.
a. d. A. d.
e. a. e. A.