Like Vivaldi's Seasons,
the light in your eyes is changing.
Tell me something nice, life.
Don't hurry, please, let me have rest.
Life, life is a novella
that you never have enough.
Yesterday a white, white veil,
tomorrow white, white hair.
Life, life is a novella,
at times friendly, at times hostile.
Sometimes you want to complain
but you have nobody to whom you can.
Every family is like a tree.
It breaks, falters, time changes it.
Like in Vivaldi's Seasons,
a pinch of delight, a sip of suffering.
Life, life is a novella
that you never have enough.
Yesterday a white, white veil,
tomorrow white, white hair.
Life, life is a novella
that absorbs you like a river.
You'd like to know the future today
but you have to wait.
Life, life is a novella
that you never have enough.
Yesterday a white, white veil,
tomorrow white, white hair.
Life, life is a novella
that absorbs you like a river.
You'd like to know the future today
but you have to wait.