Now summer has passed,

As if it had never been.

It is warm in the sun.

But this isn't enough.

All that might have been,

Like a five-cornered leaf

Fell right into my hands,

But this isn't enough.

Neither evil nor good

Had vanished in vain,

It all burnt with white light,

But this isn't enough.

Life took me under its wing,

Preserved and protected,

Indeed I have been lucky.

But this isn't enough.

Not a leaf had been scorched,

Not a branch broken off. . .

The day wiped clean as clear glass,

But this isn't enough.

Tarkovsky