George Cosbuc

1866-1918 / Romania

Spring Harbingers

From sunny countries and skies blue
From which last autumn-tide you flew,
Return, dear birds, where you belong,
Most welcome, you!
The woods, bereft of leaf and song,
Weep for they have missed you too long.

In the eternal dome of azure
Did you not dream with longside pleasure
Of what you left? Did you not sigh
For dear Home's leisure?
Or cry when seeing in the sky
The clouds that northwardly did hie?

You sang to Nature paeans fraught
With holiness, strangers you taught
Our soulful doinas when, at times,
Of us you thought.
But did you tell them that their rhymes
Excel all those of other climes?

Now you come home - and you will see,
Again, the wood, the field, the lea,
Your nests in groves, so warm and deep;
'Tis summer, verily.
I feel I have a mind to leap,
To laugh for joy, for joy to weep!

You come accompanied by flowers,
By gentle winds and sun-warmed showers,
And nights so rife with honey-dew,
And cheerful hours.
You thus take everything with you,
And bring back everything anew.
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