Cirque of seasons

How softly summer could guess about the winter?

By falling and through the fall elopes


Winter is a dead stranger,

met about in the snow


Till the Spring jumps from nowhere,

into the bower of flowery maize,

with the memory of dead leaves of grass passed away


And an evening yawns in the summer gleam,

cooling heels and starting over, the Cirque of seasons,

By falling and summer through the fall elopes Eden

And presents on the earth a wintry meadow

with the beckoning of a spring heaven







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