From The Spanish Of Villegas
A thousand odors rise...
'Tis sweet, in the green Spring,
To gaze upon the wakening fields around;
Birds in the thicket sing,
Winds whisper, waters prattle from the ground;
A thousand odor rise,
Breathed up from blossoms of a thousand dyes.
Shadowy, and close, and cool,
The pine and poplar keep their quiet nook;
Forever fresh and full,
Shines, at their feet, the thirst-inviting brook;
And the soft herbage seems
Spread for a place of banquets and of dreams.
Thou, who alone art fair,
And whom alone I love, art far away.
Unless thy smile be there,
It makes me sad to see the earth so gay;
I care not if the train
Of leaves, and flowers and zephyrs go again.
About the Creator
Maiya Devi Dahal
I have a great passion to work for the overall betterment of women and children who have been facing a real hard time in their career aspects and lacking behind all the fundamental ones.
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