Fine were my days and nights

until the day you weren’t there.

I couldn’t answer my own soul—

how could I answer you?

Fine were my days and nights

till you found the courage to see me again.

You are not my love; you only disguise her.

The rain, the wind, the soothing smell of soil,

the smoke lifting—

you came back, confusing me more than before.

Hard to answer, hard to understand

how you could have done that.

Fine were my days and nights;

when you were not there, I was my own.