February the Lame
For February that is lame, nature offers change
Imperceptibly the scenery changes skin
Large shreds of cold come off cheerfully
While others, blood or sap stamped under the hat.
Everywhere vegetation offers the beginnings of the beginning
One admires the incipient ornament of the almond tree dressed in white
We listen to the light singing of the roitel and crested ending in chirping
One gets drunk of the scents of the pompons of the flowered mimosa.
In the sky the solar crepe lingers a little more each day
Sweating and fragile, one day it ice-cold
The next day the floral sparks of the rows
Awakening the fire of life among hibernants in search of love.
The robin whistles his cascade of high notes
While the silvery warbler zinzinule unrestrained
Slice with silent flight from the bell tower
Of the owl scared in his white speckled livery.
Up there, near the snow-capped peaks
The whiteness friend, the variable hare, sports in the powder
Fade into the setting, playing the day to the happy ghost
Haunting the woods in the evening in search of copious barks.
Candlemas, Mardi Gras, Lent, Love
Parade in procession along this shortest month
Masquerades, lighted candles, fasting
The desire to return the season of frost in good faith.