Here is a gentle piece of verse from the roguish Irish poet and playwright, Brendan Behan.
Teacht an Earraigh – The Coming Of Spring
Oh you coarse Gaelic Cold!
I hate your sour expression!
The north wind blows:
Tough tormented trembling
Without vitality or verve
Without youth or use
Until the bright feast of Brigid
And the resurrection of joy
The wind comes from the south :
A promise of sun for my limbs
A fresh life exciting me
Awakening of the blood
You ancient season:
Twenty welcomes to you and more,
Oh Spring of the young!
(Translation provided by Skull of Bard, Thigh of Chief)