He will come again
It was winter,
wanted to warm up
to me, to me, to me.
Then, summer,
wanted coolness, a shadow.
She fled, hiding.
But the seasons alternate.
He will come again when it gets cold.
But I will no longer have the warmth for him.
Let it warm without me,
as he hid in the heat (the heat)
from me to me, in me.
Goodbye and Kisses ...