I dreaded losing my joyous
face, my safe happiness,
Each summer that went by my crooked nest.
Winters were a comfort; the cold, windy streets,
I would hide under their white bushes
With my boots on. Me. Me.
But spring, O, Spring!
When spring came,
Summer drew closer, you, summer, you, us. We -again.
How did it first get to this?
I opened my eyes and today was at my window.
Spring draws further,
You draw further,
I become a feather stuck to a tiny crack in the cobblestones of the street,
Trying, in vain,
To flee with the first autumn breeze.