Foolish flake of snow detached
From a cloud white as a dove
You believe you are unmatched
For you look down from above.
Arrogantly you behold
The poor people - how unfair,
'Cause your heart is icy cold
You are lofty, you don't care.
The light wind turns you around
And sometimes you gently swing;
Floating high above the ground
You are haughty like a king.
I don't know what you have planned
Foolish flake of whitish snow,
But you've fallen on my hand
And you melted here below.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
wonderful poem dear, Octavian. Read my poem, Love and L u s t. Thanks.