English poem
The Blossom-Child
by Edith Matilda Thomas (1854–1925)
The flowers, the haunted flowers of May, They bring delight, they bring heartache; What wondrous things to me they say!
So bright--so dim, so sad--so gay, No stem of theirs I dare to break-- The flowers--the haunted flowers of May!
When lip to lip they softly lay-- As soft, as still, as flake on flake, What wondrous things to me they say!
For lo! there comes with them to play, A child, whose feet no imprint make-- The flowers--the haunted flowers of May!
From Childhood's Land they take their way, They bloom but for that flower-child's sake-- What wondrous things to me they say!
With them it lives, their little day; With them, each new-born year, 'twill wake; The flowers--the haunted flowers of May, What wondrous things to me they say!