by Tudor Gheorghe
From their blind sleep, of dark night
From far away, away from beauty
The orchards are returning home
With dresses full of flowers, long.
It is spring, it’s spring again!
On every margin of each river,
The fingers of our ancestors come out
In snowdrops, lilies and sweet violets.
You can feel again the scent of plain
And the sun is warming every flower,
In the song of skylark high
Harvests coming out to sunny weather.
In sparrows now abounding every day,
The forests full of cuckoos now invading,
The birds are fighting in the beauty of their songs
And polish every voice to give more praise.