On a Grey Thread/Chant of Spring

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Chant of Spring

Like an unhappy woman Earth frees herself   from the arms of Winter,Surely Winter, her indifferent Lord,Whose touch is death to her passionate body,And, weeping, yields to Spring, the   wooing maiden,The slim girl who kisses her with   awakening kisses,Burning her lips and eyelids with flaming mouth   loosed upon them,Renewing her body with wildness   of young caresses,Holding her close while the reckless hours dance   to death.
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Wan passion flowers growing in hidden places,Memories,Kisses given by the slim maiden.Wan passion flowers,All that is left to Earth of her maddest lover.

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