Destiny had me look for him in autumn
when fall colors seduced and disappeared;
the delusion of his discovery marked the youth,
and this is the labor that has no compensation!
He whispered: “Spring is not far!”
He whispered it today, and I remember years back!
Now I whisper:
“Spring will joyously appear
at the altar of my departure;
offer fragrance to my ashes
when I would be no more”.