Bedros Tourian

1851-1872 / Armenia

To May

O VIRGIN, mother of the sweet spring flowers!
O lovely May, in shining blossoms clad!
Why bring you not the blossom of my soul
Among your many-colored flowerets glad?
Ah me! Another angel may there be,
The May of the soul’s flowers? Some happy day
Then may that angel come, and on my head
Shine with soft light—an infinite pale May!
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