Some years you visit briefly, with barely time to say hello,
in others linger fondly, with long farewells before you go.
You chase away the shadows to show that winter’s done
and tell us to make ready for a summer full of sun.
You wake the sleeping hedgerows, by whistling in March gales,
entice the flowers into bloom with a charm, which never fails.
Your gentle tears in April make all things want to live,
all forms of life respond alike to the promises you give.