Snow has covered the mountains and meadowsthe sparrow taps at the windowpane,for a grain of millet to be dropped in its beakby the one it expects it from the most.
Though spring will not be long in comingfor all of nature to smile againand the sun to cast its warming raysyou make no sound, you are silent again.
Perhaps you wait for summer to bring its warmthlike back then when it joined our hearts as one,to bring our happiness back to life once morefor the nightingale to keep singing as only it knows how.
Do not wait, do not wait for autumn, that sinful seasonon which I would gladly lay all the blame,do not wait for the flowers to wither in the meadowsfor then no better day will dawn for you either.
