I, from my Northing came:
precessing with my outriders of the first dews,
until I rested in your dreams
and seeped into their warm stones.
Did you see me as you chased your day
Down to the corners?
Or was I hidden from such careless kingdoms,
When hush-tall kingdoms hummed lustily
To contain the last sulking fruits.
Walk then in your warm day: forgetful again.
But you shall know my touch
And embrace my silvered cold -
To purify the tamed torpor
Of waking.
I came as the welcome ecstasy,
Clothed in promises:
And you shall call me winter.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Great poem. Winter congratulates you. Richard