Thank you. I had done that but I was hoping there might be a more idiomatic version out there, something more poetic than Google's effort. Perhaps it's too soon for someone with a feel for the poetry to produce a better version.
Will she the Spring knows
we all are waiting for her ...?
Will she dares to cross
our depopulated towns,
hanging on our balconies
The magic of its geraniums?
Will she leaves her smile
sculpted in our fields,
painting our gardens
green, red and white?
will she, the Springtime knows
that we are waiting for her ..?
When she arrives and we can´t see each other
nor in the streets nor in the squares,
when she can't listen in the park
the passage of the elders,
or the always happy bustle
that make the kids always playing…
Will she think she was wrong
the date of the calendar,
the appointment that always
is calling for her reaching March?
Will she, the Spring knows
that we are waiting for her ..?
When she burst out jubilant
filling with white dots
the almond trees , plums trees,
the orange trees, the jasmines
and she can´t see that the Virgin
is prepareted for the parade.
That the incense has been kept,
the throne, the cross and the canopy.
And that Christ, like everyone,
is locked inside his house,
and they don't let Him get out
neither on Thursday nor on Good Friday ...
Maybe will the Spring think
perhaps she was wrong?
Will she hear the wailing
of those who was unemployed,
of those who are working late
because they are helping their brothers?,
of the one who exposes his life
silently and for all forgotten?
Will she listen every night
the cheers, the applause
that we are giving with joy
to health care personnel?
Will the Spring think
maybe she was wrong?
Will she hangs her full colors
until the end of a year?
will she knows Spring
that we are waiting for her ...
That we are forbidden to kiss,
that hugging is prohibited;
the heart, blood and fire,
the bleeding heart.
Will she Springtime knows
that we are already dreaming her?
Leaning out on the balcony
Of the Virgin of Hope, we wait
like never before, that she comes back
and give us the miracle
to see life flourish
that today is getting out of our hands
Wellcome back Springtime!
You smell like incense and bouquets,
with your colorful suit
and the songs of your birds.
Come to paint of blue-sky
this land we inhabit.
Don't we feel that in this world
something new is sprouting?
Will it be she, the Spring
who is speeding her pace?
Sister. Lucia
I did the best I could. My English level is basic, and never supose to be a poet.
Please note that in Spanish Spring, springtime are female and usually need the article "la" (the) before.
The word "si" in Spanish mean yes or if. In this poem the use of "Si" at the begining of some lines means "If" and is used like a form of interrogation.
I apologise Sister Lucia and you for the crime I have committed daring to traslate the sense, the beauty and the music of this poem.