—Ah, Ash-tree! So you are awake?
I thought you were dead,
Cut down while you slept
By winter’s severity…
—Quickly don your lacy skirt:
You’ve been struck by apathy.
May is perhaps asking itself,
What happened to its Queen?
Some time ago the beeches
Heard from the birds
That Springtime had arrived,
And they adorn themselves
And they all dress themselves
In their green skirts of satin
For the reception…
—Ash-tree! lazy one!
Will you get up?
Or are you awaiting Summer?
As you wish my lovely…

30 May 1963.

Translated by Lenora Timm

This poem in breton

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