Only a shot for greeting
And for farewell he disappeared into the night
In the middle of the grass field he is resting
Where he died without a word on his lips
And I'm waiting for spring
I feel the soft hands of my darling
I feel her fondling of my hair and two words
Without words, in the middle of the grass field
When spring is here
Why does this word of trumpet remind me of those people
Who don't have right words on their lips?
Why is it that all these flowers
lie and rot in the middle of the field?
So that all those people
would feel time
And spring, that for every being
Happens only once in a lifetime