In those days that crumpedly
Unwind at railway tracks
There's no spirit, no joy
Snows thaw on mountain edges
Black trees left to wander
Under the stars
Like a body hanging from a guitar

Snowdrops shall rise from earthly clod
They gather nothing from my life
Know nothing of its' meaning
Never in March nor in April
When blackest snow melts in towns
It dyes its' hateful mouth yet again
There I reread old letters
And clothe in grey wool

I used to accompany her
Those letters are closed today
Between thick walls of cabinets
Between torn bibles
Bathed in tears of rain
Prophets from Rembrandt's black prints

A light around the body
People fare to church at night
They are all but snow to me
A memory complete
Once sledding with my family
And in the heart as red as sunrise
A burnt wooden cross tumbles
It screams at the horizon
Night vanishes

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