Tag Archives: spring

Bud

Sometimes I would
That the bud
Could stay
That way.

In spring
Birds sing
And buds, for an hour,
Flower.

There Was A Young Lady Called Ling

There was a young lady called Ling
With whom I had a fling.
My girlfriend Kate
Joined our date
In the midst of the budding spring.

There was a young lady called Ling
With whom I had a fling.
My girlfriend Kate
Whacked me with a plate.
Oh love, tis a painful thing!

Hibernation

It is cold.
Should I be bold
And go outside?
Or like a tortoise, hibernate?
I can not decide.

It is late
In the year.
A thought most drear
Does take
Hold .
Not all tortoises awake
From the cold.
I pray
For a spring day.

We Dance In A Ring

We dance in a ring
In spring
When the roses bloom
And little think on winter’s tomb.

We cavort
In the summer sun
With unstaid maid
And give but little thought
To how the deer does run
Towards the setting sun.

In autumn, when leaves fall
We recall
Life’s joys and gall
Ere winter makes a bed
For lover’s head.

“Faith in Spring” by Johann Ludwig Uhland

I spent a pleasant Friday evening with my friend Brian. At one point during the evening Brian mentioned the below poem, “Faith in Spring”, by Johann Ludwig Uhland (https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Ludwig_Uhland). I must confess to having no German, nor had I heard of the poet who’s poem is reproduced below:

Die linden Lüfte sind erwacht,
Sie säuseln und wehen Tag und Nacht,
Sie schaffen an allen Enden.
O frischer Duft, o neuer Klang!
Nun, armes Herze, sei nicht bang!
Nun muß sich alles, alles wenden.
Die Welt wird schöner mit jedem Tag,
Man weiß nicht, was noch werden mag,
Das Blühen will nicht enden.
Es blüht das fernste, tiefste Tal:
Nun, armes Herz, vergiß der Qual!
Nun muß sich alles, alles wenden.

Faith In Spring

The gentle winds are awakened,
They murmur and waft day and night,
They create in every corner.
Oh fresh scent, oh new sound!
Now, poor dear, fear not!
Now everything, everything must change.
The world becomes more beautiful with each day,
One does not know what may yet happen,
The blooming doesn’t want to end.
The farthest, deepest valley blooms:
Now, poor dear, forget the pain!
Now everything, everything must change.