After my dad died from a long illness 2 months ago my mum found this poem in his wallet:
The clock of life is wound but once
and no man has the power
to tell just when the hands will stop
in a late or early hour.
Now is the only time you own
love, live and toil with a will
place no faith in tomorrow
for the clock may then be still.
I was hoping to get it translated so that I can make it my own little remembrance thing.
A friend used some translating tool and came up with this:
Clock Of Vita est vulnus tamen quondam, Quod haud vir has vox Ut dico iustus ut manuum mos subsisto Procul tardus vel mane hora.
Iam est solus vicis vos own.
diligo , ago quod laboro per a mos.
Locus haud fides in tommorrow,
Pro clock may nunc exsisto etiam.
but i have since been told that translation makes no sense.
Please help a lost soul?
The clock of life is wound but once
and no man has the power
to tell just when the hands will stop
in a late or early hour.
Now is the only time you own
love, live and toil with a will
place no faith in tomorrow
for the clock may then be still.
I was hoping to get it translated so that I can make it my own little remembrance thing.
A friend used some translating tool and came up with this:
Clock Of Vita est vulnus tamen quondam, Quod haud vir has vox Ut dico iustus ut manuum mos subsisto Procul tardus vel mane hora.
Iam est solus vicis vos own.
diligo , ago quod laboro per a mos.
Locus haud fides in tommorrow,
Pro clock may nunc exsisto etiam.
but i have since been told that translation makes no sense.
Please help a lost soul?