Oh the slow fall of snow, <br />Its unending blanketing swirl! <br />Yet my mind's eye was giving shape <br />To what couldn't be kept hidden, <br />That in the white drifts each fleck <br />Is known, weighed, counted. <br /> <br />Oh you spinning dancing flakes, <br />Your tiny souls and personalities <br />Withstand gravity, weightlessness, wind, <br />In your coming and going <br />I see your destinies glide down, <br />Which you begin, fulfill, begin . . . <br /> <br />This one falls soft and like wool, <br />The next is crystal and tenacious, <br />The third's a clenched fist of struggle. <br />Yet their white realm disperses by morning, <br />Thus one doesn't die from the rest, <br />And they dissolve into the purest drop shapes. <br /> <br />Oh the world's slow falling snow, <br />That race's dense, blanketing swirl! <br />It perishes and not one fate melts alone. <br />We melt, but we are left behind <br />When death, the way spring wind thaws, overtakes <br />Us drops and comes together home in the womb.<br /><br />Franz Werfel<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-snowfall-2/
