It's Me It's You

A son of nature welcomes the pleasant weathers' adventures, To a pink night of November it is an invitation of a blue morning. A fine mild cold and pleasant night waiving her soft loving hands, A parting flying kiss, a good bye to a tall lady summer's dancing, A short lady is showing his smiles through the pink windows, But the outgoing one is at all not sad as she is carrying springs, I wonder why the flowers of love spring in all the weathers, I love to see how the girls of nature exchange their ear rings! I am a slave of instincts for me every weather has an appeal Nature is a lover of the show; lady winter will carry lady rains, But I cry with the clouds as lady autumn follows the rainy girl, What a life is life that is passed in memories of the lost stains. It's me sweetheart, who gave you the beaches in a summer, It's me sweetheart, who gave you the showers of the rains, It's me sweetheart, who gave you the icicles on the glasses, But it's you in all the weathers returning only with the stains! Still I am happy as I hated the hate and I loved the love, Still I am proud of the love stains; at least I have loved, In all the maidens I saw your face, and a shining glace, I loved none but in all the weathers I kissed your grace.