Such a Dark Winter

Such a dark winter,

Such long-drawn snowstorms!

Scarcely a glimmer of sunshine before

Night falls and it is dark again...

Such a stillness in the heart,

Not a sound, not even a moan...

It hears death-and does not speak.

And who would answer? The emptiness . . .

No, not that winter, not that one...

And even the unexpected, brief

Return of your tenderness,

What's that to me? Like these storm clouds,

Beneath which life is darker still-

And it's too late for me to sing.

But did not I myself predict

That this would be;

That a winter would come without light,

Without laughter, utterly.