The snowman was confused and didn't know why
passion and reason were in balance.
Last week, he had to face a lot of snow.
He wanted to know how many
snowflakes were there already.
The snowman understood
the pure joy of life.
The rain began to fall and
the snow melted.
He wanted to feel the weight of life
on his shoulders.
Joined in to be there.
Now, he shines like demitasse.
He knows he has
nowhere differently to go.
He tries to separate
nature and freedom,
two different forms of
looking at effects
that cannot work together.
Admires the long black cars
and the white trees.
Sees the sky in the evening,
the daylight in the morning,
and this insignificant world.
He cannot perceive the night.
For him, the beauty of
the effects is simple and pure.
Tries to figure out the difference between
being alive and living ever.
Feels the first snowflake
fairy falling on his heart.
Clinging to the darkness of the night.
Thinking that the whole world is
confusing and
incomprehensible.
Tries to understand
the difference between
the feelings within and
the reality around.
He begins to wake up.
Poem by Marieta Maglas
Variant:
The snowman doesn't know why
the reasons are balanced perfectly by feelings.
He was dealing last week with a snowstorm
wondering how many snowflakes could fall.
The snowman thinks of
the pure joy of being alive.
Now, the rain comes down in trickles to melt the snow,
and he wants to let all the weight fall to the ground
and to become a part of it.
He shines like porcelain now,
and he knows that he has nowhere else to go.
He makes an effort to distinguish between
these two incommensurable realms; nature and freedom.
He examines the black hearses spanning out of white.
He discovers the twilight sky, the rising sun,
and this inconsequential world.
He understands that flourish of innocence and simplicity.
He makes an effort to distinguish between
his immortality and his existence.
The snowflakes begin to fall so softly upon his icy heart.
The gentle snowflakes begin to fall again.
A blackbird starts to hang in the darkness of the night.
The whole world constitutes for him a
great ambiguity and elusiveness.
He remains tightly closed with his owner inside.
Significantly, the night begins to kill the day's seconds.
He makes an effort to distinguish between
The ineliminable input of external and internal sensations.
He begins to have his consciousness.
'Significantly, the night begins to kill the day's seconds...' expressive one. Makes to think too. Good.
skillfully woven with flakes of imagination. a figurative description!
based on marvellous thought a wonderful imagery, the passionate and beautiful write
The content and context of this poem is carefully crafted, like the hands that made 'the snowman, '
He begins to have his own consciousness that he was made by kids hands and will die soon the next sunny day this is its destiny to make that kids happy did he accepted it?
He makes an effort to distinguishing between His own immortality and his existence …. ~ Virtuality well penned According to Hindu Spiritualism…Every thing in Universe are but Manifestation of Bhraman…so here poets thought reaching near to this concept… thanks sharing…Marieta congrats Ms. Nivedita UK 10/10
From : Amanda Jones (USA United States; Female; 17) To : Marieta Maglas Date Time : 4/3/2010 4: 00: 00 PM (GMT -6: 00) Subject : I Love your poems I read your poems! I love them! ! ! The poem 'The Snowmen' is my favorite. I Liked how you talked about the snowmens feeling. Hope you keep writing! ! Amanda Jones
a fine 'stream of consciousness writing'........ astonishing flow.......figuretive images wonderful! HIGHLY CREATIVE PIECE DEAR MARI! !
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Increadably inspiration in ice. Wow! Wonderful words! 10+++++++