The gentle sunshine kissed the gray earth,
and the warm breeze melted away, yet once again,
the snow that had lingered over the mountain slopes.
And everything growing responded to the cuddly gesture;
the pear trees and the apricot put on their new clothes
and released their own power in mass blossoms.
The lilacs sniffed and radiated the scent through pastel violet blooms.
And the dainty little perennials too have fair their fashion,
glowing and smiling with their vivid faces.
The ash-colored sky shifted into an ocean of blue.
The herdsmen shed their warm sheepskin robes,
and the grassland started painting into a tinge of green.
The farmers plowed, seeded into the misted, softened soil.
And the nine-combined river raised her singing pitch
to cheer up the tired valley.
And the ground is finally free to continue its work.
The Yartsa Gunbu  will soon poke their heads above the earth.
The highlands will soon be carpeted with lush grass,
wildflowers amongst where yaks can roam.
And the farmland will soon again be high art,
an amusement of wheat, barley, rapeseed, and flax,
until its golden reach.
If ever there were better new beginnings than springtime,
where beings can hope and dream wild,
as if the sun’s kiss banned the winter rude, for good.
 Yartsa Gunbu (དབྱར་རྩྭ་དགུན་འབུ), Ophiocordyceps sinensis, a fungus