Poetry

Without noticing butterflies and bees
for many years we have both lived alone,
while autumn and winter came to the trees
and far too quickly the years are now gone
but I have found you as my only one
and at times you think that I am bitter,
while maybe something in my trembling tone
does betray the tears that sometimes glitter;
in this late summer not just anyone
but only you can turn my heart from stone.