It's the temptation
To be all absorbed
To no longer have? worrying
about the time of our life
It is the fear of living,
of going to the end
Also of going? the encounter
with its finitude
It is the temptation
To deny the present
Because it is precisely it
which is elusive
To hide one's face,
rather than to be clear
Not wanting to embrace one's state of solitude
My tree is all in bloom
Yet it it's still very
cold outside
We're expecting fruit
The feeders
Who make you beautiful and strong
It's like my life
Sometimes gloomy
Other times colorful
Sitting under the flowering tree
In the depths of the shadow
Light, happiness

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