Palm Sunday
Poplar catkins fall onto the ground;
The wind – wanton, playful, mellow –
Brings spring warmth, reviving all around.
The sun gives all lovers with a smile
Bunches of first lovely flowers;
Noisy nights protect their domain, for a while,
From attacks of morning early hours.
Birds sing solo beautiful romances,
Harmony of sounds is divinity;
Half-awaken, Nature whirls in dances
And shakes off her wintry peace and her virginity.
17.05.02
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