It is the happy August of our love
The time is ripe for harvesting the fields
Heat is no more; the warmth is all we have,
Enough to be content in our needs
The food for thought as good as meals you cook
The house you made home where comfort reigns,
The children who inherited your looks,
They are the landmarks of our winding ways.
Summer of love,
Yellow sun the skies over
Center of life,
You are mine, I am yours always
Feeling your joy and your pain,
You are verse and refrain.
Your kisses are as warm as our walks,
Walks in the park which started shedding leaves.
I never thought I could enjoy our talks
As much as the embraces that you give.
But children, children, what will be your path?
How will you find the road toward your home?
If only I could give you my advice,
If only I could pass you what I learned...