Leaving this morning, at sunrise,
As I lifted the nose to watch the sky,
I felt something brush against my ears:
She was finally here, the first swallow!
I saw him make three times around the house
order to verify that everything was in place,
sure that during this off-season,
No doubt it would work a threat.
Then she landed on one of the chimneys,
one that does not work, to find the nest
that will provide shelter during last summer
Happy to happen, its journey done.
Oh, I know the rest, I know all the ritual
For five or six days, I never see anything
By the time the family arrives, in single file,
Leaving for a time the African sun.
And then start a crazy serenade
Stories of nests that we must recover.
This will only cries, prosecutions and "... becada"
Until everyone can finally live.
And we curse at being awakened, With
, despite everything, a smile on our lips,
For it promises a hullabaloo was
Where we will have time to live, love and laughter.
I was mistaken as a mere week
sparrow And I was laughing good laugh!
But this crazy expectation was far from being vain,
Because since this morning, I am rewarded.
With a stroke on the almanac, I score this Thursday
That is, how curious, the first day of April.
And yet I swear I did not lie.
A fish like that would be too young!
They say a swallow does not make a summer.
Yet it is surprising that it happens today,
Since at April 1, long ago,
We celebrated the New Year, the return of life.
It's funny how sometimes, luck would have it!
No?
April 2010
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