Spring, the sweet spring, is the year's pleasant king,
Then blooms each thing, then maids dance in a ring,
Cold doth not sting, the pretty birds do sing:
Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to-witta-woo!
The palm and may make country houses gay,
Lambs frisk and play, the shepherds pipe all day,
And we hear aye birds tune this merry lay:
Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to-witta-woo!
The fields breathe sweet, the daisies kiss our feet,
Young lovers meet, old wives a-sunning sit,
In every street these tunes our ears do greet:
Cuckoo, jug-jug, pu-we, to witta-woo!
I don't think that the spirit of spring, the king of all seasons, could have been eulogized in a better way. Every word of the poem (even though an excerpt) stays upright and celebrates the nature in all its finery during this season. Great work.
This is an excellent selection in my opinion.... Enjoyed this tremendously - especially as an excerpt - while other duties tend to take my days away it is certainly wonderful to have the time to fully enjoy the work of those poets who blazed our trails 400 plus years ago.. I think this is absolutely wonderful and quite gay - in the older sense of the word..
Come on. PH, you could have made a better selection than this as poem of the day. Of the 33 people who have bothered to vote so far, they have only rated it as 5.7 out of ten, which is an F in my book!
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
May be the poet has seen a king who is not synced with the nature nor interested to venture beyond his kingdom.