THẾ GIỚI THỨC GIẤC TỪ CƠN MƠ GIÁ LẠNH
The winter’s grip begins to fade,
As whispers of the spring invade,
The snow that once was crisp and bright,
Now melts away in morning light.
The frozen winds begin to cease,
A gentle warmth brings soft release,
Buds peek out from earth’s embrace,
And winter’s chill retreats, displaced.
The trees once bare, now start to grow,
With hints of green beneath the snow,
A robin sings, a robin soars,
As winter knocks on distant doors.
The world awakes from frosty dreams,
The ice melts down in silver streams,
And though the cold may come again,
For now, the winter’s end has been.
As whispers of the spring invade,
The snow that once was crisp and bright,
Now melts away in morning light.
The frozen winds begin to cease,
A gentle warmth brings soft release,
Buds peek out from earth’s embrace,
And winter’s chill retreats, displaced.
The trees once bare, now start to grow,
With hints of green beneath the snow,
A robin sings, a robin soars,
As winter knocks on distant doors.
The world awakes from frosty dreams,
The ice melts down in silver streams,
And though the cold may come again,
For now, the winter’s end has been.
Macrh 02-2025
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