Sonnet 5: Love
Sonnet 5: Love
Sonnet 5: Love 5: Why nights of March are so cold
Why the nights of March are so cold,
Colder and gloomier than the December's;
March, of spring, of colors and of Marigold,
Why seems of waste and in deep slumbers?
Why night lingers and veils the day's mood,
Selling only black paint, not the rainbow;
Night, the healer and the sealer, not the rude,
Why seems lunatic without the moon's glow?
Why forgotten morning breeze to knock at my door,
And tries to gallop like a thief now;
Morning breeze which stirs up even the gore,
Why seems, the pain has burthened its bough?
Why forgotten all the birds to come to my terrace;
Why for me there is no heart, as my palace?