The woods are green everywhere
as spring is arriving with songs
and with dancing flowers on May’s marvel.
The scented lanes with melody of birds
fill music in the air, while
bees and butterflies dance in joy
over the bosom of the flowers in bloom.
Wind then touches the leaves with its flimsy hands
for revival of hopes to leap into new life,
to impart the spirit of youth and freshness
and reinforce the belief to the budding ones
that for every night, a day is in wait, upon which
the lilacs peel off the chrysalis of their sorrow,
decide not to grieve over the loss of their dead ones,
to greet the spring, celebrate its glory in full delight
and re-author stories of their life afresh
to grant themselves immortality at least momentarily.
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