 |
|||
 |
"I Hear You" Violets in the wood -- delicate, among ferns, Pine needles or thickets -- Whisper the gentle melody of the perfume They exhale. I hear you murmuring those secrets That the wood keeps, faithfully, inside its thickets. Secrets not known to blackbirds and magpies, To the fragile summer's butterfly. You talk and the words born Are humble: the conversation Reaches my ears, very discretely, With its shy and fraternal message. You state the truth and, sensitive as you are, You herald good fellowship. As for me, I hear you |
 |
 |
 |
|||
 |
|||
 |
 |
||
 |
 |
||
 |
 |
||
 |
 |
||
 |
|||