Primavera (Miquel Martí i Pol)

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.