how brief the summers of our lives the bloom and grow, with the tide of the moon, wax and wane above the cold, autumn, clothed in plaid hushed the wisps of breathe like ghosts vanished on the gusts from the indian mountains vanished on the wind and bring again, new lives yet lived, in the wheel of the stars, where all things begin how brief the summers of our lives that bloom and grow older than the seas, burn hotter than the kindled flame, pass away, forgotten, into that gentle night without name. how brief the summers of our lives that bloom and fade.