• Spring Poems

  • 2020/08/20
  • 再生時間: 2 分
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  • The last week or two, with their heavy rains and warmer breezes have truly reminded us that winter is gone and spring is gaining on us every day. I thought it would be nice to see what people have said over the years about the magic of Spring.

    Thomas Tusser wrote the now immortal words in 1557:

    Sweet April showers
    Do spring May flowers.

    In 1852, Alfred, Lord Tennyson wrote:

    In the spring a young man's fancy lightly turns to thoughts of love.

    T. S. Elliot wrote in 1922:

    April is the cruelest month, breeding
    Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
    Memory and desire, stirring
    Dull roots with spring rain.

    e. e. cummings wrote in 1923:

    in Just—
    spring when the world is mud—
    luscious the little
    lame balloonman
    whistles far and wee

    and,

    Robert Frost, the wonderful American poet wrote in 1936:

    The sun was warm but the wind was chill.
    You know how it is with an April day
    When the sun is out and the wind is still,
    You're one month on in the middle of May.
    But if you so much as dare to speak,
    A cloud comes over the sunlit arch,
    A wind comes off a frozen peak,
    And you're two months back in the middle of March.

    Enjoy the process of early spring and know that soon enough we’ll be baking in the summer sun.
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あらすじ・解説

The last week or two, with their heavy rains and warmer breezes have truly reminded us that winter is gone and spring is gaining on us every day. I thought it would be nice to see what people have said over the years about the magic of Spring.

Thomas Tusser wrote the now immortal words in 1557:

Sweet April showers
Do spring May flowers.

In 1852, Alfred, Lord Tennyson wrote:

In the spring a young man's fancy lightly turns to thoughts of love.

T. S. Elliot wrote in 1922:

April is the cruelest month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain.

e. e. cummings wrote in 1923:

in Just—
spring when the world is mud—
luscious the little
lame balloonman
whistles far and wee

and,

Robert Frost, the wonderful American poet wrote in 1936:

The sun was warm but the wind was chill.
You know how it is with an April day
When the sun is out and the wind is still,
You're one month on in the middle of May.
But if you so much as dare to speak,
A cloud comes over the sunlit arch,
A wind comes off a frozen peak,
And you're two months back in the middle of March.

Enjoy the process of early spring and know that soon enough we’ll be baking in the summer sun.

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