An invisible breath, a season weaves –
changes the air of the forest.
From there a cry will come and
violets, aromas will sway…
The earth is preparing to give birth again
and the sun will flow in streams,
on virgin lips and in the lakes
of their hopes…
Innocent silence will row, a mermaid.
Light from drops will rain.
And the cry of a bird will stop
in the cradle of loving grasses,
embracing a girl and a boy –
two tender, joined in one body…
The shy conception
of first passion,
in the purest, pre-spring forest!