April, fragile. I like your long lashes, your slender body. Your name with the gleams of the next summer. Sun within reach. Your put back body, your measured steps coming to seek me. April. Free and wild, wise and ignited. Impassioned, saddened of a thrown or stolen glance. Close to me lengthened. I like to hear you breathe then to sigh. Made feeble, without concern until the end of the night. April. Who plays with sons. Falling from stars on the edge of the Nile. One nothing girl with the installations mutiny. Capricious or in love. Always happy. Small bee. Beautiful without similar. Feverish as one day which wakes up. You run in the fields. Among the flowers and their colors. Appointing time. Fussy Te. April, fragile. I like your long lashes, your slender body. Your eyes discover the world. The plays carry your seconds. Merry or marvellous. Inhabited of this happiness. To play of your fears. To run without reflecting. To snuggle without quivering. April.