A new book to read, a treasure,
expectation exquisite, description
enticing – a Pratchett, about a girl
called Tiffany Aching
The spirit of winter is in love with her,
gifting roses, icebergs, showers of snowflakes,
like my Ice Princess moved only by beauty,
nostalgic music, spiritual bliss
Anticipating this treat, too scared to begin
until I won’t be interrupted, can kill if
recalled to reality when engrossed, staring
longingly at my new Discworld novel
First collect kids then see if the heroine
is as debonair as Susan, Death’s granddaughter;
the resonance of beauty and delight Pratchett
creates when he designs his characters
I love his sardonic one-liners, implying
more than meets the eye...
Terry Pratchett “Wintersmith” Corgi books,2007
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem