Always before, the spring returned.
The bright world in its cycle spun.
In air and flower, grass and fern.
Assured and cradled, by the sun.

Always before, I could explain
The turning darkness of the earth,
And how that dark embraced the rain,
And gave the ferns and flowers birth.

(key changes)
Already I forget these things,
And how a vein of gold survives:
The mining of a thousand springs,
The seasons of a thousand lives.

Now winter is my memory.
Now autumn, Now: The summer light.
And every spring from now will be
Another... season...
into...
night....