Work Text:
I hear when the northern wind
blows out its frigid breath with gusto.
Abodes watch through their blazing windows
the waltz of winter joy and wrath,
this dance of little snowflakes
under the wide and deep blue skies...
The northern wind has changed its pace
and gently strokes tree branches and trunks.
The trees look into closed casements
in search of warmth and sanctuary,
while on the streets the wind keeps dancing
with wild abandon, in no hurry.
...I hear the winter choir singing
from outside, ready for sleep –
its clutches take me on a trip:
I dream about rustling leaves,
about the early signs of spring...