Has this been really so long?
Another year passed, indeed?
I still feel the wind from the sea in my face,
find in my pockets some sand from our place,
and dune grass hangs in my hair.
the taste of salt on my lips.
Already gone one more year?
already gone one more year?
Is it already that late?
Last year's snow still thaws from the rim of my hat,
makes a puddle grow slowly at my feet,
and on the waxed parquet
I get aware winter's here.
Already gone one more year?
Already gone one more year?
So is tomorrow today?
Last summer's annoying mosquitoes still buzz
round my head, and my fingers still pluck
acacia leaves, absently,
a bit, from the heart, is it true?
One more year must have passed through,
one more year must have passed through.
I did not count all the days.
Withered leaves still rustle under my steps,
which, in last autumn, were cut from the hedge,
harvest fires glow in the fields,
without flames, and hardly to see.
Already gone one more year.
I'm still the one who I was.
I'll probably never grow up.
I have one more annual ring like a tree,
a thicker bark and a few new dreams,
some laughter lines more on my face.
Another year full of grace,
another year full of grace.