I say, you are the tender month of April

your laughers dance in Aeolus's call

and swiftly change your steps in ripples of spring.

you are, leisurely clouds in the sky, roaming,

in murmurs of dusky air, and stars sparkle

casually, when misty rain falls, upon flowers.

so softly, so gently, and you, in these fairy hours

are crowned in Flora's honor, innocent,

yet majestic, like a bright full-moon night,

or the newly thawing snow. And an aqua sprout

shooting and proud, you are. Supple rejoice of seeing

the lotus flower upon the expanse of water shimmering.

You are blooming buds of trees, or a swift swallow

whispering at my window, you are love, and mellow.

a chapter of poetry, and tender April of mondialito.