The icy breeze,
The silvery sky..
The whistling woods,
A lark's gleeful fly..
Scattering all the way
through the canopy,
Satiating the lustin souls
Oh the elusive sunbeam! !
It's warmth, the glee, the sly
Oh! winter's come by...
Soon the leaves rustle harshly,
and stars stop to sing,
No longer high and bright
is the maid of the mist...
It's mystique, it's gait and guile,
disappeared in the sky.
Frosted we stood with no hope,
the icy wind's unwanted grope! !
Heavier and heavier the snow fell,
until the eyes were about to well!
Comes the yellow ray
turning a sob into a grin,
I beheld the sins melt away,
AHOY! It was Spring..
- Shruti Ringe
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Comes the yellow ray turning a sob into a grin, I beheld the sins melt away, AHOY! It was Spring.... welcome as it is routine cycle of nature with special message.. lovelypoem...10