The North wind howls, the snow piles high
On every heart a frosty glaze
The harshness of these winter days
Another night of starless skies
The birds shiver too cold to fly
No song to greet the morning rays
Against the wind, the snow piles high
On every heart a frosty glaze
For the weak, hungry ravens cry
The mountains, canyons all a maze
The meadow white where elk once grazed
The dead stare with their frozen eyes
Against the wind, the snow piles high
On every heart a frosty glaze.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Your poem brings a shiver! It has captured the cold cold winter! Nice imagery!