We have travelled
through winter
with its painful
windows of hard frost,
the fire in th grate
empty with dead ash,
to see blood buds break...
springing out of
hard pruned punishment
into hopeful glory
of future summer roses
on our pallid, sorry cheeks.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
A powerful poem Sally. If I'm correct this poem is more about life than the seasons? Whatever I love the words anyway. Nice one!