Its been while since I featured a poem on Changing Pages. I came across this when I was browsing some poetry at the weekend. Having cycled home in typically heavy April showers on a few occasions already this month, it seemed somewhat appropriate. Prior to discovering this poem I was not at all familiar with the work of Mathilde Blind. I hope you enjoy it whatever the weather is with you right now.
The April rain, the April rain,
Comes slanting down in fitful showers,
Then from the furrow shoots the grain,
And banks are fledged with nestling flowers;
And in grey shaw and woodland bowers
The cuckoo through the April rain
Calls once again.
The April sun, the April sun,
Glints through the rain in fitful splendour,
And in grey shaw and woodland dun
The little leaves spring forth and tender
Their infant hands, yet weak and slender,
For warmth towards the April sun,
One after one.
And between shower and shine hath birth
The rainbow’s evanescent glory;
Heaven’s light that breaks on mists of earth!
Frail symbol of our human story,
It flowers through showers where, looming hoary,
The rain-clouds flash with April mirth,
Like Life on earth.