You Can Crush The Flowers, But You

Love Is So Short, Forgetting Is So Long.

Everything Is Ceremony In The Wild Garden Of Childhood.

Oh To Follow The Road That Leads Away From Everything, Without Anguish, Death, Winter Waiting Along It With Their Eyes Open Through The Dew.

I Don't Know Who It Is Who Lives Or Dies, Who Rests Or Wakes, But It Is Your Heart That Distributes All The Graces Of The Daybreak In My Breast.

O Happy Childhood! Blessed Youth! But Once We Know Thy Potent Power; But Once We Live All Careless Free; No Cross To Mar Our Love-lit Bower.