As we, the flowers, wither

Where now falls the silver the saved us?
Where now sleeps the passion we rose with?
Are we left with the wind to teach us
how bitter life can be?

Where now do the sun melt horizons?
Where now soar the casters of shade?
How can we ever love shadows
that carry no promise of rain?

What now, as we, the flowers, wither
will ever color the world?
On the twilit meadows of heaven
may it be you will see us again.