Oracles and priests of Persephone,
The birds cheerfully herald the coming of their mistress
And I am struck with the sudden pang of future loneliness –
Oh, Orion! My old friend!
Stay this year and see the Summer.
Must you constantly pursue your prey?
You know how futile it is
(Can a man really run as fast as a hare?)
And I need you to stay with me.
Spring is coming, but my soul
Is full of cold, ice, and dead leaves.
Oh, Orion! How can I face the Summer,
If my heart is still gripped by Winter?
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