As I walk, through the snowy field
The beauty of it, leads me to yield
The sunlight glistening on the snow
The heavy tree limbs, hanging low
The clear, crisp, frosty air
The songbirds chirping, without a care
And I thought to my self, how lucky am I
To live in this life, which might have passed me by
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem