In clear, bright skies where the larks sing, I hear the songs of the coming spring. The blossoming blooms, in colors rare, Spread their perfume upon the air.

The rivers gleam like silver threads, Through tranquil valleys, nature spreads. Beneath the boughs of ancient trees, I find a moment of perfect peace.

For every bird that takes to flight, Carries a piece of pure delight. With every step upon the ground, I find my heart’s true home is found.

• Juliusz Słowacki