Seeing a freezing cold landscape from inside a nice, warm home is not at all a bad thing to do
Sitting in front of a roaring fire can definitely take the edge from a day, after your limbs got a bit blue
From trudging through mounds of snow, doing the job that simply needed to be done, for the sake of a check
But which now seems to be melting away, a distant memory, until the next day's need sends you on a similar trek
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem