Here in the shade of the tree The hours go by Silent and swift, Lightly as birds fly. Then the deep clouds broaden and drift, Or the cloudless darkness and the worn moon. Waking, the dreamer knows he is old, And the day that he dreamed was gone Is gone.
A person rests in the shade of a tree while the hours slip past quietly, almost unnoticed, like birds in flight. The scene is calm but drowsy: clouds drift, night falls, the moon looks worn. Then the dreamer wakes and feels the shock of age—the realization that time has not simply paused.
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