Millay’s speaker addresses April as if the month has come to comfort her and has failed. The scene is full of spring’s familiar signs—red young leaves, crocuses pushing up, warm sun, rich-smelling earth—and for a moment it seems possible to believe there is no death. But the speaker pulls back sharply. Beauty is not enough, she says, because she knows what is happening out of sight: under the ground, human brains are eaten by maggots. From there the poem turns harsher, calling life itself nothing, an empty cup, a flight of uncarpeted stairs. The final image is not lovely but bitter: April arrives every year “like an idiot, babbling and strewing flowers.” The mood is defiant and disillusioned. The brightness of spring only deepens the speaker’s sense that renewal is shallow, even insulting, when set against real decay and loss. Rather than hope, April brings a painful reminder that life does not last.
Spring — Summary
To what purpose, April, do you return again? Beauty is not enough. You can no longer quiet me with the redness Of little leaves opening stickily. I know what I know. The sun is hot on my neck as I observe The spikes of the crocus. The smell of the earth is good. It is apparent that there is no death. But what does that signify? Not only under ground are the brains of men Eaten by maggots, Life in itself Is nothing, An empty cup, a flight of uncarpeted stairs. It is not enough that yearly, down this hill, April Comes like an idiot, babbling and strewing flowers.