Winter Childhood Moods Poem by Nero CaroZiv

Within the circuit of childhood plodding, unrelenting life
There were moments of an azure hue, between struggle and strife
Untarnished fair as is the violet erect and tall on its stem
Or windflower and vermilion tulips on the hill when the spring stew them

Oh, again those meandering rivulets with reeds and paths which made
My soul excel  at the view of anemone red
Consoled me; consoled any man for his grievances.
I  remember when the cold desert  winter came, with harsh winds alliances


Solitary in my little chamber with my books in the long frosty nights,
When there was no joy under the vile hand except in the still light of the cheerful moon,
On  every twig and rail and jutting spout, grew the night gloom
Under the moaning wind the wide stare owl scouted the darkness with no light


Next morning how against the faint arrows of the coming sun,
The shimmering noon of winter yielded and past
Some unrecorded beam slanted across but shortly did last
The bleak pastures the plowing prolonged,  yet undone


For happy spring I longed for; it was always on my mind,
The bee's long smothered hum, such a consoling sound gentle, kind
Inspired the scent of flowers and sprouts; loitering amidst the meadow; or busy rill,
Which now through all its winding course stood dumb and still


Not the winter of discontent; in its own memorial, the rill purling at its play
Along the slopes, and through the meadows cold by winter day 
Until its youthful vibrant sound was hushed at last
In the steady, staid current of the lowland stream pass


The Cow-house in front of the furrows shine but late upturned,
And where the fieldfare followed in the rear, a picture I always yearned
When all the fields around lay bound and hoar
Though winter was rainy with frequent showers


Winter held its reign; cold barren iron branches jutting from the hedge
Chattering in the shivering freezing breeze.
The clouds held captive; clinging; no temporary comfort or bail
The rays of the gloomy sunshine in mocking tease
Blades of grass brown, wilted and tattered at the road edge
From  the frost sharp fingernails.
Winter squeezed the last breath
Out of all that once  so vividly thrived upon the cheerful earth



Nothing will bring back these sceneries of innocence and calm beauty
Though I cherish them so madly
Contemplate upon them like inner treasures;  holy duty
An obsession I frequently conjure, recall so gladly



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