On we go, by our seasonal path to the witching nights
away from our summering, and the longest cast of light
Here now does the dark remain, lingers as a silent frost
as winter takes it place, a reminder of the time we've had and lost
the peaceful, pensive hours, made longer by the shadowed days
Are ever growing stronger, with the last harvest's work and play
A time for looking backwards, on memories long passed by
and a time for pleasant peaking, as the crone begins to fly
It's the time for weaving wonders, when the snow begins to fall
and a time to bring the new year in, as the seasons shift and crawl
Farewell the warmth of our setting sun, that we might feel you again
From a peaceful slumber will you rise, when spring does come back in
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem