Primavera (Miquel Martí i Pol)
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Here you are: a swallow, the first
has arrived in the village.
And the man who works the field
and the girl who crosses the bridge,
and the old man who sits on the sidelines, outside the village
and even those who in the narrowness of the factories
are lucky enough to see a little bit of sky
have heard the news.
The swallow has flown away, a bit indecisive,
the same level as the riverwater
it has climbed up the bridge
it has crossed, whistling, the square
and has wandered the streets in silence.
And the housewife who is returning from shopping has said it
and to the children who are going to school
and these, to the women who wash clothes in the public sinks
and the women who have called to the man who pushes a cart through the street
and the man who has repeated it who knows how many times
and has made a song of it to the cumbersome rhythm of the wheel.
Here is what it says:
spring has arrived in the village.