Meditações - neste alegre dia de meados de Março...

The washing hangs upon the line,
Between the prunus and the arch
(Where tender leaves of tambler thrust),
On this gay day in middle March.

The washing bellies in the breeze,
Across the clothes blue shadows go,
Above the house the lark sings high,
Before me, see, two aprons blow.

To watch the patterns move criss-cross,
Cast from the branches of the pear;
For symphony the song of birds,
And daffodils beside my chair; -

These are the simples joys of life;
With rippling clothes put out to dry,
Reflecting cleanliness and light
Beneath a wide and changing sky.

Theodora Roscoe