FIRST SNOW

Ah, the first snow! The land in snow-white dressing

like winter’s bride – but wanly, sadly ailing…

trees in their hundreds raise dry arms a-wailing

for help in vain, their futile pleas expressing…

Now the storm riders scour the land, time pressing,

for wedding witnesses – seek frosts availing,

and from the heights a dark grey fog is trailing

as though the marriage bed to drape, caressing…

Ah, the first snow! All drab and drear surrounding –

Oh saddened land, whither your beauty taken,

with its allure of woodlands, leas abounding?

Ah, the first snow! What soul can stop reproaching,

as the first flakes are onto dark locks shaken,

first snow-white down exhaled by age encroaching? —