The spring awakening
The springtide wakes up not only in dreams.
The snowdrops blowing in moony garths.
One listens to propitious paradise.
The dearest graylag geese coming in flocks.
I think of the Primula from afar.
The wild boar piglets were born in a grove.
I feel springwards the warmness of a soul.
Native dreameries are fulfilled galore.
Springtide be primeval home of Naiads!
I taste the verdure of some dreamed climes.
You are dreamy like fairylike bouts.
The friends of springy morn -- are tender owls.
I can praise and bewitch Ovidianly.
Thus, I am able to enchant peaceably.
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