Lilacs

Dreams are too much like lilacs.

I haven’t planted any here.

Just in bud, they promise bloom,

Then one cold night strikes —

And it takes an entire year

Before they bud again.

I long for lilacs

Once I had my arms full —

I was full of their odor,

Enchanted with their gracefulness —

In love with them.

And I feel them, smell them, see them again,

Whenever spring comes

And the buds are ready.

Then it freezes — my dreams as well.

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