Frank Benson, 1920
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[kennichiho shine] drawing
Across the evening sky, all the birds are leaving
But how can they know it's time for them to go?
Before the winter fire, I will still be dreaming
I have no thought of time
For who knows where the time goes?
Who knows where the time goes?
Sad, deserted shore, your fickle friends are leaving
Ah, but then you know it's time for them to go
But I will still be here, I have no thought of leaving
I have no fear of time
For who knows where the time goes?
Who knows where the time goes?
And I am not alone because my love is near me
I know it will be so until it's time to go
So come the storms of winter and then the birds in spring again
I do not count the time
For who knows how my love grows?
And who knows where the time goes?
---by R. T.
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