(Fragment)
Traveling butterfly,
you take on as many colors as the summer
you slip in without knocking
and flit away without saying good-by
but if drinks are ready
then you’ll stay as if you’d fallen in love
Sometimes they call me a witch and I don’t laugh like a baby any more…
why should I care if I’m a witch
because at the window of my soul
are the headwaters of the sacred waterfall
EN 
MK