There comes a time when the cold wind blows,
Between autumn and winter,
When leaves still hanging,
Flash silver in the wind,
Like faintly seen strange jewels.
Standing by my warm hearthside,
My thoughts turn to memories.
It's so hard to think in winter,
When snow seeps into my dreams,
And I feel the wind's bitterness
In the hollow of my bones.
Now I close my eyes to recall the summer
Lush with green suns,
Which I can still see shining in my inward turning eyes,
And I hear the dark autumnal wind sighing,
Sweet songs of remembered love.


Irma Garbarino