I love, I love, I’m ready to love — yes

True love fears no winter.
No, no!
Its spring is and ever remains.

Always it’s Spring)and everyone’s in love and flowers pick themselves.

Oh, where is there the heart but knows
Love's first steps are upon the rose!

The birthday of my life
Is come, my love is come to me.

The most delicious sensation of all is the re-birth of healthy human love. Spring coming back to Earth!

I'll see you again,
Whenever spring breaks through again.

O Spring, I know thee! Seek for sweet surprise In the young children's eyes.
But I have learnt the years, and know the yet Leaf-folded violet.

With the arrival of spring, I experienced this thing called love that has continued endlessly to spin its cocoon around my being.
Here was the answer to the question Mother had denied me. It came borne on a jasmine flower redolent with scent that fastened itself to the walls of my heart. Even now I can feel an invisible hand pushing me into that past every time the scent of jasmine drifts towards me.
There are dozens of years behind me now as I recall that event, but the excitement it aroused in me and the wonder born of that excitement are things I will never forget. I had discovered something new in me and in the world, something very strange that made me stand breathless at the wonder of first love.

I felt a joy in my heart, which seemed filled with love, love for the sun, the snow, the wind and the hills, love for everything around me. It was in this mood that I walked down the snow-covered path dotted with black footprints. Further down the footprints mingled and made dirty little puddles. I picked my way over the thickest snow because I loved the crunching of snow underfoot. With the sunlight pouring down and a breeze in my face I felt that balmy spring was coming to meet me.

This sad reality, To know it couldn't be,
That's Portugal and love in April!
The music and the wine convinced me you were mine,
But it was just the spring fooling me.

... Spring is a happiness so beautiful, so unique, so unexpected, that I don't know what to do with my heart.

When Spring is old, and dewy winds
Blow from the south, with odors sweet,
I see my love, in shadowy groves,
Speed down dark aisles on shining feet.

Methinks I lied all winter, when I swore
My love was infinite, if spring makes it more.