by Conrad Aiken
I would like to touch this snow with the wind of a dream,
With a sudden warmth of music, and turn it all
To petals of roses …. Why is it that I recall
Your two pale hands holding a bowl of roses,
Wide open like lotus flowers, floating in water?
I would like to touch this snow with the wind of a dream;
To hold the world in my hands and let it fall.
We have walked among the hills immortally white,
Golden by noon and blue by night.
I would like to touch this snow with the wind of a dream:
And hear you singing again by a starlight wall .
White hours like snow, white hours like eternal snow ….
Long white streets jewelled with lights ….
Our steps are muffled and silent, we scarcely know
How swiftly we cross the nights.
I would like to touch this snow with the fire of a dream,
With the mouth of a dream. And turn it all
To petals of roses …. I would like to touch you, too,
And change you into the chord of music I knew.
Can you not change?…. Run back again to April?
Laugh out at me from among young lilac leaves?….
Play with your jewels, and sing!
Feeling the earth beneath you float with spring!….
You talk in an even tone, I answer you;
And all about us seems to say
Peace …. peace …. the hills and streets are cold.
You are growing cold.