SPRING - Kiril Hristov

Have you heard the chicopei playing

when spring blooms in white,

the tit with its passionate trills,

chirping of a swallow in flight.

Are you intoxicated with the smell of weed

with the scent of wild violets,

a bunch of pearls in the dark forest

with which samodives joke.

Have you been kissed in the early morning

from the sun bathed in dew,

when a gentle breeze blows

and gently strokes your hair.

Do you go to sleep at night tired,

when a nightingale in love sings outside,

by the spring swallowed up, subjugated,

in the distant moon his eyes sunk.

Happy Spring!