Half Of The Time Is Passed

Half of the time is passed; days and evenings on the wide shore 

Decaying of hours, and fading season 

And I can hear secret footsteps of shambling time amidst the groves and stalks 

With a wizen face and squalling voice---arrival and departure at the same juncture, steep and high flown time,

Which on a convulsing-waves appears and disappears 

Like the vague and void flash of lightening 

The time with the vacuity of the vast-sky 

And notions of profound aloneness, and the transfiguration ineffable 

The time has arrived on the verge of lily-white Sea 

And the pervading silence in the widening time, 

And coalescing of moments and timeless cessation in a whirlpool of time,

In the stones and rocks, in the distant mountains and pathless woodlands, 

And red petals of roses time passes into eternity...

My entity is nothing but a flickering light 

That comes and goes upon mine empty-eyes 

Often on the secluded seashore, and between the trees and covered snows, 

And I feel myself haggard and weary, almost subdued and lessened into the sea of whirling troubles and tribulations...