There are twenty-four hours in a day
During this time of the year, it seems as though the sun's warmth is no more
Is this because my heart has become as cold as the Earth below me?
Is this because my heart has become as numb as my fingertips have from the cold?
I can't feel the warmth of the sun upon my skin no more
I can barely feel until I watch the ice sun go beyond the horizon
Having its warmth leave the earth
The pure white snow in contrast with the pitch-black night sky
Having those stars shine down upon me as the moon reflects on the snow
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem