This year spring has come with coronavirus: this is the spring of coronavirus; this is the spring of heavy air; this is the spring of hard breathing; this is the spring of the dead; this is the spring of falling flowers; this is the spring of crying birds; this is the spring of sad wind; this is the spring of fiery weather; this is the spring of heavy sadness.
Sometimes, spring is also of sadness that this year shows the spring of coronavirus, the spring of no bird singing, the spring of no flower bossoming, the spring of loud crying, the spring of silent crying.
In spring blossom of season comes spring singing of special birds advancing.
Birds of spring go unsung how spring does beautifully blossom.
The spring has come but no one in the garden, no bird singing, no flower blossoming reminds the spring of loneliness, the spring of heavy breathing. It is, in fact, the spring of coronavirus, the spring of dreadful virus.
I have no more patience for this Europe where Autumn wears the face of Spring and Spring reeks of misery.
Spring in the years 2020,2021 come with coronavirus and go with lives. How sadly in spring the birds sing and flowers bloom!
Come, guys. Spring goes. But this year spring does not blossom well for coronavirus haunts.
Spring has come but you are absent, still the birds are singing, the flowers are blossoming. Thus spring will come, spring will be though we'll not be.
Yet there is no spring in Florida, neither in boskage perdu, nor on the nunnery beaches.
Passion, though a bad regulator, is a powerful spring.
If you would get exercise, go in search of the springs of life.
I was struck by this universal spring upward of the forest evergreens.