If I knew what the summer would bring
I would rush away the spring,
rush away the daffodil
and the sound of the whipporwill.
But I do not know what the summer will give
when their beauty and sounds no longer live.
Will I also wish the summer away
if the feeling of love cannot stay?
If I knew for certain you'd be there
no matter the season, bleak or fair
I'd enjoy the waiting days I see
and wade through them patiently.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem