I would like to bury me
Underneath the farthest tree
And dig me up in April.

Goodbye to freezing rains
And frosty, opaque windowpanes.
I'll be back in April.

When the daffodils arrive,
And roads are fit to drive,
I'll return in April.

When the earth turns toward the sun,
And new life calls to everyone,
I'll be reborn in April.