Spring Nocturne Poem by Maria Barbara Korynt

with skilled blow of hands
I am waking white-black keys up
waiting for frolicsome funs
of my fingers
smelling delicate with greenness
of the bedding of meadows, I can hear melodic-ness
with singing of birds somewhere in thickets
and with buzzing of restless insects
rising above the bulrush.
is accompanying with other note murmur of the brooklet

and louder humming quick mountain stream
where small pebbles scoured to the whiteness
are bathing as beads of transparent water
clean with tear of the eye, deprived
of black ink on eyelashes.
sprinkling drops of rain with the tiny drizzle
shy still digest colours, they are winning with my

fingers on the sensitive grand piano
with heart written nocturne
sentimental for you spring
and for me...