Nothing Gold Can Stay

Nature’s first green is gold,
Her hardest hue to hold.
Her early leaf’s a flower;
But only so an hour.
Then leaf subsides to leaf.
So Eden sank to grief,
So dawn goes down to day.
Nothing gold can stay.

Robert Frost

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Seasons

Transparent tree, full of migrating birds on a blue morning,
Cold because there is still snow in the mountains.

Czeslaw Milosz