SPRING


Spring spring spring
Looks like a flower everything
The dew falls-down as shower
The bees wander from flower to flower;



Upon the cheeks of curved leaves
Sleeping the blossomed flowers;
Into those flowers for honey
The bees those creeping many;



The full-moon ogling with joy,
From the black smoky cloud, high;
The blooms talking together merrily
With the voice of sweet, hurrily ;



Beneath the infinite azure sky,
Like a garland storks fly;
Beyond the high purple hill,
The firmament lie-down with smile;



The meadows, the fragrant smell,
The swinging trees and the far hills, well;
The sweet songs of cuckoos are fine,
Those are all yield us joy devine.

G.MURALI . 12.3.1992.