Winter and Beauty Poem by Antoni Vidal Ferrando
Winter and Beauty
After I devoutly kneeled as was wont to do
Fra Angelico, before painting the serene sky
of ancient Florence, I have not found beauty.
Nor have I found it in the noble order of Greek temples
or in literature's expanse of beaches.
Forever unattainable, it has become distance
on any sounding board: and the rosy petals
of the almond trees are cold when I write its name.
Translated by Julie Wark
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
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2/23/2026 5:39:36 PM # 1.0.0
