hark, the frozen chimes of winter   crystal shimmer in you mind.   to the first time when you saw her   you implored her to be kind.      in the open fields around you   all before you gone to ground.   both the question and the answer   deep inside you - you shall find.      and while you're strolling through   the summer of your years   enchanted, a garden overgrown   don't call me sentimental   those of you who care   could find there a lover and a friend   to the end.      and if you're taken   by the spirit of your age   no reason to carve a cornerstone   sway me, trade me   your philosophy,   first you're sowing   then you're growing   then you reap - until you sleep.      will you scale the silver studded mountain?   where contemplation will spring to mind.   see the veiled prophet's withered gaze   reflect the 'nouvelle-vague'   glazed visions imprisoned in your mind      unwinding rivers flowing   through the meadows to the sea   paths of glory   through shifting glades to fall      present laughter and the memory   of troubles you have seen.   it is written in your mind.