Cold chills surpass feelings of well-being/
A frosty morning, under snowflake heaven/
Frozen waters, hanging off maples/
Polar zone of coldness, toned with white/
A chilled cup of heavy black joe/
A pocket of steam from the machine/
Fingers knitted up in cotton/
Toes booted up in leather/
A pile of snow made by shovel/
An ache in the back made by huff/
Layers of whiteness, up to the top step/
Snowflakes forming with a raw winter wind/
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
Winter's core is fantastic and wonderful poem shared on this desk definitely. Interestingly penned.10