Calm as the woods that in the winter dream
Beneath the frosty gusts of Boreas
When icicles thin pencil-like and white
From overladen boughs all numbed do hang.
Serene as sits the owl when on her bough
She all around reviews and thinks
Unruffled in ruffled feathers sitting
She thinks and utters not a syllable.
Fair as the fields that gild with corn
Their crowned forehead in the tepid Sun
When Spring young trumpeter of the coming boon
Fruits and corn and laden trees heralds.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem