I and my heart
lie in frozen slumber
deep within the castle walls
of my snowy domain.
No man can hope to win me now
unless he is strong,
willing,
and utterly determined
to face this forbidding,
this desolate region of arctic winter
to find my resting place,
and rescue me with melting flame-
with a steadfast and fervent heart.
Some have tried, but
Their lack of resolve
To brave such fierce cold
Allowed them to relinquish the quest.
Thus, I remain:
my home, a beautiful palace
of ice,
flowery vines creep up my walls
of stone,
yet frost,
hushes the fragrance of everything around me,
and I sleep.
I sleep and dream
of what could be,
but is not.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem