Cast across the virgin snow,
a starkly naked silhouette,
contrast black on diamond white,
full moon with no regret.
Thinly, night airs acquiesce
within a hushed reluctant freeze,
draws her limbs above her,
till shadow's edge is crisply teased.
No sound or whisper wants,
her silent solace, her lonely stead,
grief, a separate solitude
through dreams of summer's weeping dead.
She stands alone as beauty.
She nurses bold courageous stirs.
She haunts this meadow, her duty
in echoed light that's solely hers.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem