So bright the frost that comes to freeze,
Pink cheeks and other hues.
Some mixed.
All definitely ethnic.
Playing in the snow all day.
So delightful are the faces innocent...
To bring one walking about to stop,
To absorb the warmth of children...
Feeling free to be a part of a season,
To be enjoyed.
As some sit observing this,
Aged with cold shoulders.
And minds split into divisions...
Permanently fenced in.
And breathing mist...
Within distance,
Upon their closed windows.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem