Our snow weary world tires of winter,
and rain sodden oaks plead for sun,
timid wrens mute their song in bare hedges
as Earth whispers ‘Spring has begun’.
White clouds scurry in across blue skies,
flustered by winds from the west.
The lilac in bud waits in silence,
Its burgeoning blossom suppressed.
Frosted fields offer hope for the Lapwing,
safe furrows to nestle their young.
From their high jigging flight, flashing black and then white,
clouds of hundreds sweep earthward as one.
Earth’s whispers were scorned by many
when late snow landed softly again,
on the buds of the lilac, still waiting
for the gentle caress of Spring rain.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A delightful poem about the spring we never had. It seemed such a long winter. Have a read of my To Spring, its similar.