Solitary Flower: In search of Spring

Away on a bunch of hills,

I left in search of Spring,

To free the world from a ceaseless winter,

That the harsh currents bring.

I searched here and there,

For one moment of peace.

But the flowery fields on my arrival showed,

A ghastly downward caprice.

On one solitary hill though,

I came across a solitary flower.

And that flower spake,

And it spake for the longest hour.

A fleeting frenzied flurry,

Through which I peacefully slept;

Now hither tither the heathers by the river,

At my leaving wept.

O orange dusks and blue dawns,

Let not this flower wring.

For I was shown the light,

All in search of Spring.