Seasons
Summer - my strength -
spins shadows of hope.
It's so happy! It's so lovely!
But it must die.
Winter - my weakness -
whiff of a reticent woman.
Protracted reminiscence! Eternal lifelessness!
And in comprehended guilt.
Spring - my torment -
stalk created to see
the blind sun, the tender old age
and to despise the eternity.
Autumn - my envy -
hides in hewn rye
something unknown - maybe delight,
maybe that expected death of mine.
Marin Angel
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