Little springs…
After the rain the water runs
From puddle to puddle –
The rooster has cried three times,
As if the new day has come…

I’m smiling,
Having downed on myself
A bucket of spring water -
The sun ray is tickling
A droplet on my nose

Spring in the valleys!
The grass from under the snow
Joy to my hands
They’ve blossomed out already,
These flowers, ever so little…

Crack of dawn
Through my eyes the soul looks
Southward –
Turning snow into flowers,
You will come back dressed in birds…

„Traitor!“ – howled one day
The old lady at the market -
From that day on
I chitchat with each one and buy
A pumpkin here, a cabbage there…

Your sighs
Like tuning the cello –
In the flame of a candle
Invisible, careless
Someone’s wings get burnt…

I dream of my nanna.
The front garden’s blooming,
The barrel under the rain,
Two swallows plait the sun ray
Into this bright morning…

In the dark of the garden
Touched by the morning sun ray
The peony has opened -
Or may be just for a moment
It was lighted up by your smile?

= Translated by the ULITKA =