Where have my tears gone?
What did you do, my friend?

What happened to your smile?
Where have all your dreams gone?

How did my tears
end up in your eyes?

Give me back my tears,
give me back
what is rightfully mine.

Bring back your smile.

The warmth of autumn ripens the quince,
makes the leaves whisper,
and reflects the gentle rays of the sun
on the windows of the building across from mine.
I can see the silhouettes of my neighbors,
and soon will come the days
of drinking hot chocolate
there are still autumn days left before winter arrives.