Lost to me are the joys of spring Lost is spring’s endeavor Lost is its grace and fine splendor Alas! It’s lost forever. Look yourself, O earth’s dwellers This silent stretch of sand That sprawls before your eyes today Was not barren land
From this end to the other And to that stretch a yonder The magic cast by clear blue skies Was shamed once by earth’s splendor Where not soothing grass cloaked More quarter on this ground Water bodies covered green With mosses all around
Alas, the beauty of each spring The splendor of flowers and fern Laden air with fragrance sweet Those made the birds return As by vintage wine cheered Dancing bees and birds to sing And nights with moths and fireflies With her is gone that spring!
