Thursday, March 1, 2012

A French Poem Called Springtime-By Théophile Gautier

Look at the boughs, How white they are, It’s snowing flowers! Scoffing at the rain, The sun dries The weepy willow. And the sky reflects In the violets Its pure colors… The fly opens its wings And the dragonfly With the golden pupils, And the wasp-like corset, Unfolding its silky wings, Has resumed its flight. The water happily babbles, The tiny fish wriggles It’s Springtime again!


  1. Love the Spring poem and thank you so much for the email. My blog post is up with your link. Have a wonderful happy day. xo

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