"White Shroud of December"
Ice has laid down on the ground as a white gravestone.
On the cemetery of grass and flowers the blizzard walks alone...
December has walked again on colored autumn carpets,
On the black-and-white background being played by ravens-puppets.
Cold is old as time, so old...
Days are pale and sad as never, and the sky has nothing to weep.
Reflexions in the frozen pools forever fall asleep...
Cold is old as time, so old...
White, white silence of white desert -
Only snow crackles underfoot.
Cold, cold violence the earth has deserved
And it silently suffers, as a mute.
Breath of winter strives to destroy
And put on the clothes, which are so white.
Snowdrifts as grey tombs shine on the soil
In the cold white day and cold black night.
The endless chain of frosty days lasts long and slowly,
The exhausted spirit comes back again to a melancholy...
Hundreds of eyes look from the sky, as scattered embers
As traces disappear under the white shroud of december!
(Written by 'Чук' in December'09)
