Because the longest winter,
Is not the one whispering shivers
In valleys and the mountain pass.
With its fine-white veil,
Bathing the trees and countryside.
The longest winter,
Is the one that has settled in your eyes,
Staining your lips with gray words
Stealing your voice of sweetest chants.
You seem to have forgotten
I am a flower in your arms.
And thought I demand nothing of you,
With my heart like this -withered-
I must ask,
When will you give me back the sun?
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