It is always snowing
in my deepest being,
a snow of sleep, a snow unending.
When I see the blur of snow
falling over distant pines,
I feel a subtle peace, a reassurance.
When I watch it blowing
over the stubble, over the stalks,
a kind of serenity fills me.
My friends have warned:
the death wish is symbolized by snow.
I know. I know.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Simple lines which convey deep thoughts, wonderful
Indeed. This is from 'A Sheaf of Snow Poems', very rare edition.