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Like winter roses in a film

     Of somewhere to the south:

Great waters go to keep their calm,

     Drenching the peat beneath.

 

And never can I tell how long

     These tranquil flowers will last;

A gesture in the air may bring

     Disaster to the best.

 

Or sometimes nothing is enough:

     The blossoms fall: a sigh

Would much too loudly echo the half

     Whisper with which they die.

 

No two are just the same, and each

     Colour triumphs alone;

Yet seen together, none can match

     The total red on green.

 

Who could believe in winter with

     This radiance by his side?

They hold the years unending youth

     Until, of course, they fade.