Yes you are right, pure love is so like winter's early snow
its flakes descend in joyful dances from the cloudy sky.
Two figures huddle tightly on the meadow far below
and do not care if life itself and time just passes by.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Simply beautiful Herbert...I really like this in its simplicty...thank you...Fi 10+