Little by little, winter bids us farewell,Spring is coming, the lover of poets.I have taken my place on a hillside,Where flower shoots have opened, among treesTrees both tame and wild.
I draw near with a bird's desire,To touch a tender shoot,To lay it as a crown upon the backOf winter's sins...But my hand touches a thorn,That makes my desire tremble...
I gathered the hair of pain,A gift for the sorrow!
A statue before the mirror, Wrinkles shiver, the soul’s gray hairs, Your image mocks me, The mirror takes fright in the eyes… Shards fall like stones, On the shadow of desires, Barren…
A breeze blows, and shakes the leaf, / Rocks a wave across the sea.
If you did not know that He is watching you, If you were not certain of the breathing of the stars Behind the great clouds, If you did not hear His waiting smile Behind…
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