May day
A delicate fabric of bird song
floats in the air,
the smell of wet wild earth
is everywhere.
Red small leaves of the maple
are clenched like a hand,
like girls at their first communion
the pear trees stand.
Oh I must pass nothing by
without loving it much,
the raindrop try with my lips,
the grass with my touch;
For how can I be sure i shall see again
the world on the first of may
shining after the rain?
Sara Teasdale Illustratie: Jo Grundy
Een milde meiregen is mooi verwoord en verbeeld!
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