Nothing stays the same and at this time of year the changes are so rapid that a blink and it seems as if you are in another country.
The blossom comes, the blackbirds sing ,
The leaves come and the blackbirds sing.
The grasses flower and the blackbirds sing,
Crickets puncture the night , after the blackbird sings:
And the first bat scissors the dusk,
And tomorrow the blackbird still sings .