Bud of hope about to bloom
and the autumn arrives.

I'm more scared of
happiness than of sorrow,
more scared of today
than tomorrow.

I cannot capture what must pass,
I cannot hold what is meant to go.

Happiness deceives
and I'm deceived.

Moment of joy
turns into tears
excitement ends
sleepless night remains

I'm always bewitched by the spell
that breaks too soon.