by Oliviu Crâznic
Algid the air, on crystal clear horizons,
Beyond the eyes of angels I have drowned;
Yet, funny, it’s still snowing in my ocean –
Watering flakes and one black tear adown.
Standing before me, so beautiful a foe,
Her door ajar, heralding darksome pleasures;
Anon she whispered, ice fracture in my awe:
“That was quite all. You`re not to eye my treasures.”
Bleak day of winter, I find myselfe alone;
Alas! Stained all the wild roses!…
Losing her heart, I rip my very own –
And red on white, this Christmas tale closes.
Withal I’m kneeling, and tasting the chaste snow,
O amor fati, I summon her reflection;
The tang of blood enthralls the fading soul,
Fey anamnesis of my sweet infection.
Volatile And Rare (A Winterheart In The Snow)