Oh, you merciless servant,
how I wish your arms
could but fly around your face
and carry me off to times beyond.
Could you but skip today,
and tomorrow too,
our separation would be clean
and free of the gnawing pain of each parting note.
How can you stand and watch
each wounding thrust draw blood,
knowing that only you, with a flurry of cranks and wheels,
can heal the pain created there?
Please, aging time piece,
take pity and move me on,
for of this anguish and parting
I can take no more.