Ditty On The End Of The World (Loose Translation from Czesław Miłosz)

On the day the world ends...
It is over.
Bees still bumble above cress and clover.
As the fisherman mends shiny net,
dolphins porpoise and splash, wild and merry,
sparrows pick at their favorite berry,
and the snake hasn't lost its scales yet.

On the day the world ends,
dark and zealous.
Women still carry sunny umbrellas.
Drunkards still fall asleep on the lawn.
Market peddlers still call: come here, fellas.
Pastel sails near the shore as if drawn.
And the fiddle will play until dawn,
and the stars still appear to go on.

Those awaiting both lightning and thunder
angels trumpeting, earth torn asunder --
will not get it --  there will be no trumpet,
and so they will ignore it and stamp it.
With the sun and the moon still in orbit,
bee still sipping cress juice to absorb it,
and with rosy cheeked babies still crying,
they'll refuse to believe it, denying.

Just an ancient old man, some say prophet --
he's too busy and thinks nothing of it,
long white beard, and his mustache quite curled.
He'll repeat, while he binds his tomatoes:
This is it (and he'll say it with pathos)
There'll be no other end of the world.
There'll be no other end of the world.

Author notes: This is a loose translation - while many of the internal rhymes match, the meter is invented https://www.tania-soleil.com/czeslaw-milosz-piosenka-o-koncu-swiata/ https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mOT3PDi3FMs