Solitary Flower : In Search of Spring

Away on a bunch of hills,
I left in search of Spring,
To free the world from a ceaseless winter,
That the harsh currents bring.

I searched here and there,
For one moment of peace.
But the flowery fields on my arrival showed,
A ghastly downward caprice.

On one solitary hill though,
I came across a solitary flower.
And that flower spake,
And it spake for the longest hour.

A fleeting frenzied flurry,
Through which I peacefully slept;
Now hither tither the heathers by the river,
At my leaving wept.

O orange dusks and blue dawns,
Let not this flower wring.
For I was shown the light,
All in search of Spring.