Tis springtime, 'tis springtime, Cold winter is past;
Warm breezes are blowing and May's here at last;
The birds are returning, Their songs fill the air;
And meadows are smiling with blossoms so fair.
'Tis Springtime, 'tis springtime, all nature's reborn;
Shy flowers, fresh grasses the hillsides adorn;
The orchards and woodlands with colors are gay,
The glad earth rejoices through all the bright day.
Я только такое