But this picky girl On a ceremonial walk in April With his last suitor Was suddenly struck, intolerably, By the irregular hubbub of the birds And through the disorder of the leaves Afflicted by this tumult, she Saw her lover's gestures unbalance the air His gait wandering, uneven Through a row of ferns and flowers. She judged the petals in disarray, The whole season neglected. How she longed for winter, then! Scrupulously austere in its order white and black, Ice and rock, every feeling well circumscribed And the cold discipline of the heart Exact like a snowflake. But here - a budding Turbulent enough to cast his five royal spirits In a vulgar variegation - Unbearable betrayal. That the idiots Stagger, stunned, in the spring ruckus: She withdrew skillfully And round her house she set up Such a barricade of obstacles and barbed wire Against the Mutinous Season That no insurgent man could hope to break it By swearing, fist, threat Not even out of love.