Un poema que canta como ninguno las glorias de la primavera, sobre todo de los primeros días primaverales, cuando todo el mundo camina exclamando, "¡pero qué día más maravilloso!".
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| Marion Strobel con su hija, Joan Mitchell |
SPRING MORNING
O day—if I could cup my hands and drink of you,
And make this shining wonder be
A part of me!
O day! O day!
You lift and sway your colors on the sky
Till I am crushed with beauty. Why is there
More of reeling sunlit air
Than I can breathe? Why is there sound
In silence? Why is a singing wound
About each hour?
And perfume when there is no flower?
O day! O Day! How may I press
Nearer to loveliness?
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