I did find one poem she wrote about winter, but couldn't find an English translation. Here is another that at least mentions snow!
DEATH OF A RAVEN
It's the last day of the old raven.
His turn has come and soon a pall
Of darkness will cover him up. But for now
He suspects nothing at all
As he plods along over virgin snow
Like a peasant, flits up and alights
On a bush, shakes the ice
From a branch, rubs his beak on his claw…
From behind the blue mountain a moon is emerging,
Colder, more vast than ever was seen hitherto,
As though slowly a door were opening
To let the old raven pass through.
His turn has come and soon a pall
Of darkness will cover him up. But for now
He suspects nothing at all
As he plods along over virgin snow
Like a peasant, flits up and alights
On a bush, shakes the ice
From a branch, rubs his beak on his claw…
From behind the blue mountain a moon is emerging,
Colder, more vast than ever was seen hitherto,
As though slowly a door were opening
To let the old raven pass through.
5 comments:
The poem didn't come through, though I could read very faintly in pale red "Death of a Raven" the next block was just white. Odd.
Hi, Judith! Yes, odd....I think I fixed it now; let me know.
An understated and calm pose.
It worked, whatever you did. Ah. A poignant and mostly sad poem.
Or maybe it's not so sad...at any rate, a fine poem.
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