All at once the sky was a blanket of white,
And the snow fell silently through the night,
And in the morning they awoke,
To find snowy billows of smoke.
There legs could not carry them fast enough,
To sculpt a snowman coarse and rough,
And know that with this momentary joy,
No modern age garget could decoy.
And then came the nights sad abyss,
When the ground gives the snow its final kiss,
And in the morning the earth with water rushes,
Like a thrush retreating to the bushes.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Beautifully carried through, loved the final image