April

On a blossomed branch
A nest is hanging, in the tree.
The branch is swinging,
Swinging its nest.

The wind was singing to the flowers
Gently making them to fall asleep,
The bird giggles through her wings,
Knowing it's only the wind..

She has left for long
The flower, which has grown under her spell,
The chicory with snowflake wings,
Green in chest like mirabelle..

I still search for her since then,
Through the woods, up in the trees..

Oh you bird with chanting wings,
Where you are, how have you been? ...