Amoureux, le Printemps s’invite en mon boudoir Et le Soleil d’Avril, courtisant le troène, Tous les petits moineaux, pressés de me revoir, Gazouillent au balcon ravissant mes persiennes. Prendre le temps de de vivre, de rire et d'aimer. Simply Vintage...

“Hope” is the thing with feathers - That perches in the soul - And sings the tune without the words - And never stops - at all - And sweetest - in the Gale - is heard - And sore must be the storm - That could abash the little Bird That kept so many warm...