i move my feet on a distance
covered with cold softy white
feels like slow motion in time
crackling sound beneath; i clam
i listen to wind's whisper cold
bend my head to see my foothold
powder flew all over i can't see
i wipe my forehead and move some
i lost balance stumble on ground
i lay down instead made an angel
i am wet lying on flower garden
i remember where sweet petals been
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I would like to translate this poem