FRENCH GARDEN VINTAGE

    Joy comes to us as a bride
    The first rains burst into bloom
    Nightingales strike up a dance in our neighborhood
    Elegant water nymphs bring songs
    Thoughts turn into gold
    And gold all conversation
    Poets and girls
    Learn kisses by heart
    Someone arrives at the festival out of breath
    It is time with his flute.

    --George Sarandaris--

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