by Felipe Alvarez de Toledo
The last cries of Winter
Resound through the night.
Though her spell shall splinter,
She employs all her might.
She freezes the streets,
Buries forests in snow,
But Sun shines--
In a tree, a leaf starts to grow-
It buds and unravels,
Pushing snow away,
And so we meet
That sliver of Hope,
That says "Soon,
We shall rise to our feet,"
While we await that glorious day.
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