When Winter turns to Spring,
The dews of morn in pearly radiance lie,
The mists of eve rise circling to the sky,
And Kaminabi’s thickets ring
With the sweet notes the nightingale doth sing.
Anon
When Winter turns to Spring,
The dews of morn in pearly radiance lie,
The mists of eve rise circling to the sky,
And Kaminabi’s thickets ring
With the sweet notes the nightingale doth sing.
Anon