Walking down streets, wind batting against our faces
In the night sky, like old men putting us in our places.
Never have I seen such beautiful surroundings,
Than when the ground is filled with snow, little white sprinklings.
Even when its raining, winter is still a beautiful thing,
Rounding up every tiny little bird, taking it somewhere nicer to be happy and to sing.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
good poem in best of spirits.