All things irrevocable, every year, every hour.
All appeal a grovel that takes another minute down,
Another day, another dawn.
All regret of miniscule assistance.
The leaves on all the trees still green.
In the harbor of the early evening sky
They all sing the same song
And we listen without hearing
And the song bears no resistance.
Translations from the English 
Nice to hear from you again, Jeff! I especially love the last line – it sure carries a lot of weight in its effortlessness.
Every year, every hour, Jeff. All of them!
Yes, yes. Wonderful, Poet.
Off to dream-land, with this poem as map and guide.