When the summer comes we shall meet again, my friend, For the woods are brimming in blooms and blowing fresh roses, And love is burning diamonds hanging around chestnut trees. A maiden sits along riverbanks combing her hair, it’s where I will sing to you without moment despair, And lay my aching weariness upon you lovely glances. In the living sea of waking dreams, The merry bees are trampling the pinky threads all season long, And the goldfinch is brooding on its swarthy mossy nest, In the ripples of spring water Where reflects my youth, I'll smile to her eyes and I'll hum softly to her ears, And not bothered by her sometimes wailing flares… I long for a greenfield where we never trod, A place where women never hide or weep, Despite the nothingness of noise and scorns, Despite a living-heart neither freed nor prisoned,: I walk again into the woods and sweetly I pray: When the summer comes we meet there, my friend! Untroubling and untroubled is where we lie This whitethorn bush below—above the velvet sky.
A Quick Note: for the returning readers, some contents of the original posts have been take down as I’m trying to re-arrange my blogging style (I’d like separate the poetry posts from the more causal writings).