A hundred years hence Who it is With such curiosity Reads my poems A hundred years hence! Shall I be able to send you An iota of joy of this fresh spring morning The flower that blooms today The songs that the birds sing The glow of today’s setting sun Filled with my feelings of love? Yet for a moment Open up your southern gate And take your seat at the window Look at the far horizon And visualize in your mind’s eye — One day a hundred years ago A restless ecstasy drifted from the skies And touched the heart of this world The early spring mad with joy Knew no bounds Spreading its restless wings The southern breeze blew Carrying the scent of flowers’ pollen All on a sudden soon They coloured the world with a youthful glow A hundred years ago. That day a young poet kept awake With an excited heart filled with songs With so much ardour Anxious to express so many things Like buds of flowers straining to bloom One day a hundred years ago. A hundred years hence What young poet Sings songs in your homes! For him I send my tidings of joy of this spring. Let it echo for a moment In your spring, in your heartbeats, In the humming of the bees In the rustling of the leaves A hundred years hence.SourceThe script ran 0.001 seconds.
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