Morning in Spring


Away in the green glen a streamlet’s song,
As it chatters and bubbles the stones among,
Proclaims “I live!” as it runs along.

Away in the branches of that tall tree
A bird trills out in abandon free,
“I live! I live!” it seems to say.

A flower blooms red by the narrow way,
And sends a mute message upon its bouquet;
“See how I live!” it seems to say.

The clouds are scudding across the blue sky,
Through the laced branches waving on high;
They shout “I live!” as the scurry by.

And as I mark, in all my pain,
The burden of this one refrain,
“I live! I live!” rings through my brain.

I wandered here my gloom to give
Full play; instead, imperative,
This only matters – that I live!

30. 1. 1928