Desanka Maksimovic

spring poem

While watching all these early buds and swallows, I can feel tonight that my heart’s slowly growing over sorrows as someone’s horizon on smiley days might; That it’s getting bigger like all plants around and as light as feather, and that all happiness that’s above the ground and a Hell of pain wouldn’t really matter: It’s longing for all things that a life as such could give nice to thy, and completely nothing wouldn’t be too much -- it’s eager desire and hopes are so high. Everything that’s happened has been just a play of my heart on fire; My true love has never been given away as much as I could and as I desire; There are, in my deeps, gentle tides of words never let outside; I could give my heart to everyone on worlds, yet, it would remain a lot of it inside.

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