Apple mint taps at the window,
rosehips hang from the wall;
the trees are browning with autumn;
the leaves are waiting to fall.

I’m watching the seasons circle,
a spring of youth long ago;
thirty years’ summer a moment;
the frost will come, and the snow.

Your hair is fading, my darling.
My head is streaked too with grey.
I want to escape from the circle
of life that is running away.

We ought to catch at the moments
to pay for the desolate years,
to seize the bright sun, in avenging
the time that we wasted with tears.

But we have abandoned our anger
And love every moment we live.
We’ll never be free of the circle,
So laugh at me, kiss, and forgive.