But these things also are Spring's -
On banks by the roadside the grass
Long-dead that is greyer now
Than all the Winter it was;
The shell of a little snail bleached
In the grass; chip of flint, and mite
Of chalk; and the small birds' dung
In splashes of purest white:
All the white things a man mistakes
For earliest violets
Who seeks through Winter's ruins
Something to pay Winter's debts,
While the North blows, and starling flocks
By chattering on and on
Keep their spirits up in the mist,
And Spring's here, Winter's not gone.
Beautiful poem on winter and spring has been presented by Edward Thomas hauntingle and startlingly.
Something to pay Winter's debts! Thanks for sharing this poem with us.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Reads much like a Frost poem.