This summer air carrying sweet perfumes,
Of the youths and lasses,
Coming off the elaborate costumes,
Of new fashion's masses.
The fair views are waiting to be captured,
Artist minds enraptured,
Into the bright spring each camera zooms,
With transparent glasses.
All this curious and lovely asking,
A romantic setting,
Leading to melancholic, soothing glooms,
Who’re put in strange classes.
One glance was stretched into a reverie,
With bliss in memory,
Like sunbeams through thin curtains in dark rooms,
And slowly it passes.
Here summery embroidery's read,
Mâhî's line is his thread,
And his imagination is what blooms,
Pages are canvases.
I am a dreamer in the spring.
