Dreams are too much like lilacs.   
I haven't planted any here.   
Just in bud, they promise bloom,   
Then one cold night strikes --   
And it takes an entire year   
Before they bud again.   

I long for lilacs   
Once I had my arms full --   
I was full of their odor,   
Enchanted with their gracefulness --   
In love with them.   

And I feel them, smell them, see them again,   
Whenever spring comes   
And the buds are ready.   

Then it freezes -- my dreams as well.