A melted sky flows
to the frosty ground,
they merge
in a pale gray curtain
of twirling white lumps.
Rough and rugged
crystal hexagons
of frozen vapor scales
fall from the silvery sky.
They descend
like a scattered shade
disguised as plump,
spumy and portly
February snowflakes
that pirouette
and parachute
to the hoary earth.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem