(Letting your nightsnow glimmer,
calming the storm while ice snare branches)
And it is winterstill
in sprucewhisper above fleetingly singing ices,
in thousands of frozen tarns inside forest glades
Winterfelled,
rime grabs hold of the branchery
like we hear our groaning steps silenced
Listen.
Be quiet now, snowfall,
here, beside the spruce, the winterbird eats for its life
while Death want to say something about the sorrows
― I was the one born unto snow in a permanent thaw,
one the world skyembraced instrewn splintered answers
and left me to be remained, long lasting as tender snow,
one so aloned, leaving all my sorrow over wrong graves
In tears taking the dead heart in front of the sick
The last sight endearing land of blood and stones
and squint over this too thin-sown beauty
frosty nights caught frozen in shined darkness
Want to own myself nothing beyond rest, endtime dozed away,
wanted something higher the flames of will sent burnt in here
In tears taking the living heart in front of the dead
A WINTERFELT MOUNTAIN
1 SIGFRIDSSON 