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.