The mixture and decrease of life with time.
Time of the fragile petals.
Time wrapped in crystal blankets fall.
Which like snow it falls upon the stage.
Falling from the sky translucent is the snow.
Heartshapes melting there upon your face.
The flower in the snow.
Frozen reds and yellows glitters rain.
Disremembered it is hidden does it not continue?
When the pain of frozen starbursts from the sky.
Slowing down my mental agony.
And encrested gold a spoken sphere,
upon her it has frozen fast.
Snow that hides the flowers face.
Which when frozen is to easy to be awake and open.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Iv'e often written about flowers...how they cling to us. But I never thought about frost flowers. Whenever we think of flowers we think of the ragging beauty. We don't think of the wither. We might think of the bud with the thorns...never the death. -c