by the time spring comes
i am numb from the cold. half dead

the sun however is like a little boy
he wants to play. now

but it takes me time to defrost
and he stamps off in an angry huff

the freezing winter doesnt recognise
his aftermath in the frozen wasteland

it is a fool who is hurt by winter
and fearfully reserved in spring with spring

it is a fool who mourns the years end
forgetting the seasons and the earth will never separate

and yet, someone said, anyone can be passionate, only true lovers
can be truly foolish. with a foolishness the envy of kings
if we had known what life would be like, would we have signed up for it? yes! a thousand times yes