O Spring...
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O spring marks the rampant spreading of new light
And glorious ascensions of aconites.
It creates epic poems about daffodils,
As they lean together in the warm dawn wind.
Even in old bones the pith is stirred at last.
On other days we can witness sweet bird flight:
A proliferation of finches; with wings
Of green, gold and purple that curvet and flash
In the lenient air. It's a time that brings
Birth and rebirth. It's a time when Beauty sings.
Bu şiiri puanla
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