An air of Green vintage love
Passes like an energy;
Fire and ice, they do collide
To produce a silent soliloquy.

Quiet and lovely the path seems,
Shining with an ecstasy;
Too deep a thought, to mild a word,
The heat is so heavenly.

You glare at me through doors
Of intersecting wands of glee;
It hurts to say that time awaits
This meadow full of misery.

Vintage love is my anecdote,
And I narrate it happily;
But then the air slaps my face,
And all crumbles down suddenly.