Portrait of a lady

Now that the lilacs are in bloom
She has a bowl of lilacs in her room
And twists in her fingers while she talks.
'ah my friend, you do not know, you do not know
What life is, you who hold it in your hands';
(slowly twisting the lilac stalks)
'you let it flow from you, you let it flow,
And youth is cruel, and has no remorse
And smiles at situations which it cannot see.'
I smile of course, and go on drinking tea.