Water flows between the rocks,
in the river of my solitude.
Even though the Sun has already imprinted Spring
in the birds I hear singing among the trees,
and the flowers that already bloom.
I still winter in melancholic despair.
Come and imprint my heart with Spring,
One beat at the time,
one touch of your lips is all I need.
My heart and soul will bloom,
and I will dance between the trees.