O Hepatica
O Hepatica, when will you beckon
to awaken me from Winter’s lull?
I implore you to quickly usurp her
ere her lingering grinds my lobes dull.
–
Sweet Anemone, wait not a second
to emerge from your ashen abode,
for I’ve already faded to torpor
and my cognizance starts to corrode.
–
Dear ephemeral sprite, do you reckon
I’ll escape her in spite of the cold?
For I rue that she holds me in stupor
but your blossom wood get me paroled.
