Two Spring Poems

To soft green grey has turned hard winter ice
Mist enshrouded, rain laden, now anxiously awaited
The brisk surface-shifting wind
Which sounds the shards along the shore
And frees the waves to pulse again

Early awake the crocuses, up through grasses tangled, withered
While buds in boughs remain still hidden
Fearing one last freezing blast
But when at last the world in full verdure's clad
Long shrivelled and forgotten are those purple and white blossoms

Juhan Puhm, 1993