Page:Darío - Eleven Poems.djvu/55



AGPIPES of Spain, ye that can sing That which is sweetest to us in the Spring! You first sing of gladness and then sing of pain As deep and as bitter as the billowed main.

Sing. 'Tis the season! As glad as the rain My verses shall trip ye a jig or a fling. Ecclesiastes said it again and again, All things have their season, O bagpipes of Spain!—

A season to plant, a season to reap; A season to sew, a season to tear; A season to laugh, a season to weep; Seasons for to hope and for to despair; A season to love, a season to mate; A season of birth, a season of Fate….

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