Spring sonnet

Far away out of bounds of my sunrise,
lost in the past my earliest April’s perfumes,
from May my shoes, from August my costumes,
I have found in your love my paradise.

Let us sip out this gay Spring’s the pleasure,
walk along this delightful bloomy meadow;
I shall admire, when you get out the shadow,
how in the light your hair is a treasure.

Look that prairie. If you like, this sunny day,
which lustful Pan’s the breathing sets on fire,
we can enjoy of our bodies the feasting.

Then, when Sun shows its last tragical ray
and Night pours ice and peace on desire
we shall return fairly tired to resting.