| Never before, at the beauty of spring;
|
| Have I noticed the scent, of so many things
|
| Of maple and cherry, and roses of red;
|
| And the lingering stench, of the wandering dead
|
| No further than nature, I wander to breathe;
|
| The fluttering scent, of flowers and weeds
|
| The quickening scent, of upgrading pines;
|
| Refreshingly green, from the changing in times
|
| 'Camouflaged by grief and dissembled in sorrow; |
| the advent of spring,
|
| in the rise of tomorrow
|
| Shall weather its beauty and relish its pain; |
| wandering forth in golden rain'
|
| I heed to the singing, of birds in the sky;
|
| Roused by the sprouting, of life that revives
|
| I cherish this season, not lasting for long;
|
| Where the sounding of conflict, is blended song
|
| I heed to the crackle, of opening sprouts;
|
| At the beauty of springtime, where flowers arise
|
| I rest among grass, that is emerald green;
|
| Tranquil with a healthy, abundance of spleen
|
| 'Camouflaged by grief and dissembled in sorrow; |
| the advent of spring,
|
| in the rise of tomorrow
|
| Shall weather its beauty and relish its pain; |
| wandering forth in golden rain'
|
| Erect and majestic, of blistering crowns;
|
| The oak trees are growing, at the rising of time
|
| On freshly cut grass, on an emerald lawn;
|
| I heed to the sounding, and the making of spawn
|
| Never before, at the beauty of spring;
|
| Have I noticed the scent, of so many things
|
| Of lilies and daisies, and red pimpernel;
|
| And the fluttering scent, of the fires from Hell
|
| 'Camouflaged by grief and dissembled in sorrow; |
| the advent of spring,
|
| in the rise of tomorrow
|
| Shall weather its beauty and relish its pain; |
| wandering forth in golden rain' |