April — and Dying
Green blood fresh pulsing through the trees,
Black buds, that sun and shower distend;
All other things begin anew,
But I must end.
Warm sunlight on faint-colored sward,
Warm fragrance in the breezes' breath;
For other things are heat and life,
For me is death.
Black buds, that sun and shower distend;
All other things begin anew,
But I must end.
Warm sunlight on faint-colored sward,
Warm fragrance in the breezes' breath;
For other things are heat and life,
For me is death.
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