If you look for me in springs,
look around the garden!
I’ll be in the pistil of each flower
talking to each bee.

If you look for me in summer in the mountains
when the torrid sun will burn you
I’ll be the spring waiting for you to come,
to touch your lips with cold drops.

If you look for me in mid-autumn
Maybe you’ll find me, eventually.
I’ll be in the rain that batters your window
when night the dogs howl in vane.

If you look for me in winter in the park
I will come back from another world
And in your waiting I will snow again
To dress an acacia in white coat.

I will touch a branch, at random,
And I will shake off myself completely in your hair.
With cold lips I will kiss your cheek
And then maybe you’ll know that it was me.