Through the meadow April comes,
Leaving, as he passes,
Companies of daffodils
All among the grasses.
Tulips round about the door,
Ranged in martial order;
Violets in sweet array,
Up and down the border.
And beside the lily-pond,
Mindful of its sleepers,
Guards of light frittillaries,
For its fairy keepers.
Sow your fine chrysanthemums
While he blithely passes,
Dahlias too, and thrift, to blow
All among your grasses.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem