</></>Autumn is a pretty season:
We'd like him better than Spring
with her green conceit
and endless yodeling
But for the jackal lurking
in the roan chill:
Winter, meaninglessly cruel
who darkens the plaid hill
where it's shadow falls
and on whose smoking tongue
flicker and disappear
the very infirm and young,
but, who takes, too, the strong
and beautiful besides.
For this defer your dreams.
Rhein, reverse your stream.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
I love seasonal poetry and the rustic atmosphere it inspires. its charming.