April is the cruellest month
I. The Burial of the Dead
April is the cruellest month, breeding
Lilacs out of the dead land, mixing
Memory and desire, stirring
Dull roots with spring rain. …
Please allow me this diversion of the first few lines of T.S. Eliot’s The Waste Land.
Oh. I understand your disappointment now. You expected an April Fool’s joke. Noch nicht.