From "THE TALK OF FLOWERS&quot


I do not know, whether the sun
Accomplished it,
The rain or wind –
But I was missing so
The whiteness and the snow.

I listened to the rustling
Of spring rain,
Washing the reddish buds
Of chestnut-trees, –
And a tiny spring ran down
Into the valley from the hill –
And I was missing
The whiteness
And the snow.

And in the yards, and on the slopes
Red-cheeked
Village maidens
Hung up the washings
Blown over by the wind
And, leaning,
Stared a long while
At the yellow tufts of sallow:

For love is like the wind,
And love is like the water –
It warms up with the spring,
And freezes over – in the autumn.
But to me, I don’t know why,
Whether the sun
Accomplished it,
The rain or wind –
But I was missing so
The whiteness and the snow.

I know – the wind
Will blow and blow the washings,
And the rain
Will wash and wash the chestnut-trees, –
But love, which melted with
The snow –
Will not return.

Deep below the snow sleep
Words and feelings:
For today, watching
The dance of rain between the door –
The rain of spring! –
I saw another:

She walked by in the rain,
And beautiful she was,
And smiled:

For love is like the wind,
And love is like the water –
It warms up with the spring
And freezes over – in the autumn,
Though to me, I don’t know why,
Whether the sun
Accomplished it,
The rain or wind –
But I was missing so
The whiteness and the snow.

Translated by Clark Mills


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From "THE TALK OF FLOWERS&quot