It comes after the winters,
With it’s own joy and flora.
The little flowers bloom with happiness,
And spread their wonderful fragrance.
The new leaves arise from the nodes
And look as if wearing red velvet coats.
The days are neither hot,
The nights are nor cold.
The sun is neither blazing
Nor is it mild.
So I think that spring is the
QUEEN of all seasons
And is the best one of all the four.
I like beginning of this poem. but at last i somewhere lost interest.... it should conclude something more meaning full. any way good attempt.... smiles Aashish
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
PREETS...APOETESS AT 12...WHAT AN ACHIEVEMENT...TIS ONLY GOES TO PROVE MY CLAIM THAT YOU HAVE THE GIFT! 10! FRANK