pril Days Days of witchery. Nature is waking up Sending forth her beautiful sound, And the woodpeckers', And through the wood the shy wind steals!
Springtime
When springtime comes upon us Filling freshness in the air Showing natures own beauty With flowers blooming everywhere.
Nights when the wood frogs faintly peep Once-twice-and then are still.
The grass starts turning greener Pushing up out of the ground, When every hell anstree finds heart;s warm rays Start the birds to singing Touching our hearts in these ways.
Trees start slowly budding Opening to the sun', Rich with the pine and the poplar smell, When witer and spring like lovers meet In the mist of noon and part--- In the April days, And the joyous earth like a dancer reels- Through the April days; martial voices sweep Like bugle notes from hill to hill- Through the pulseless haze