Snows
Which is it now,
You who lived once by the chill height?
Is this whiteness of yours
Snow of the winter
Hard-shining in the sun,
Or snows returning two months after snow,
Snows of narcissus,
Drifting over you —
O coldest, sweetest body?
You who lived once by the chill height?
Is this whiteness of yours
Snow of the winter
Hard-shining in the sun,
Or snows returning two months after snow,
Snows of narcissus,
Drifting over you —
O coldest, sweetest body?
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