The Clock Stricks the Clock calls
The clock stricks, the clock calls, The past is buried and the future calls--- Lilacs came up with primary colours, Black eyed susan, all the mist has gone--- A throng of abeilles hung upon these, fairly they carry out their duties--- The clock stricks, the clock calls, Glare spread into fields after the squalls--- Band of birds swing above in rough winds, And rustic filles're harvesting red fresas--- Chanting the chorus of new age of wills. The clock stricks, the clock calls---- No field is safer: the crow calls. to crow, Walk carefully through the hills by plains---- We see the flames into our small grove. The clock stricks, the clock calls--- No one gives thanks to your free gifts, O God of sparks. We are not sincere in our deeds, Our means, our meals, our dreams, With peace, submission and love, all could become ours, The clock stricks, the clock calls--- ©Affaq Naibe