Snow Poem by Michael Wooff

1930) The woods appear to be asleep
like winter lambs and winter sheep.
I too am covered as with snow,
hiding from my alter ego.
Snow cheerfully adorns each roof
like letters mislaid and aloof.
Drawers are empty now and darkling
and the concert's notes are sparkling.
In concert halls there shine like coke
a blaze of candles, men tell jokes
and at a good joke people laugh.
The snow's a splendid photograph!
The landscape's not taken aback
when asked to serve as cot for child.
Poets bee-busy poetise.
In factories machines run wild
and none can treat it as a game.
To boys, girls, women, men it's plain:
What point is there in all this graft?
Snow now lies thick on many paths.
A fine time's being had by all!
Sharp blades of grass at nature's call
stick heads of green out of the snow.
Where the snow falls is where it stays.
It does not move or change its ways.

[Robert Walser (1878-1956) - Translated from German by Michael Wooff]