February

I've arrived late, I know,
At the allotment of the year,
And I remained, I feel ashamed,
To be the gathering of time.

I know the excuse is accusatory
But what can I say just now?
I was a little muffled
By the sharing of a mythical.

I was calming a last strong frost
What was crouching under the snow
Snowdrops, which sporadically appear
In the forests, in the orchards.

In the meadow, among the floes
A sluggish river sneaks
And doesn’t fit between its banks:
Here and there it pops out.

It's work a lot in the cold winter
Outside as well as inside the house…
I didn't feel how time passed
I was late for the meeting.

The year was divided, quickly,
On the criterion: great name;
In longer slices, or a bit shorter,
After its fame in this world.

And I remained of twenty-eight
I'm not complaining, I feel really good,
But I cannot understand
Why do remnants come to me?

Rhythmically at four years
With one day they change my body
And-just-like this tyrannical people
Day they give to me, day they retire.

Please understand good people
Time is not shorter or longer -
Rhythmically flows from ancestors
And… will flow for very long time.

February 10, 2018, Helmond