The river had long since blocked the news
Fluttering wicker
The story of never catching a fish again
Who rubbed the leaves into the ice
And who follows the vein
Sculpt the vicissitudes into poignant amber
I couldn't stand the temptation of crystal clearness
I want to put one on the earlobe
Afraid of the warmth of the blood
Melted the winter acacia
Also afraid
Zero degree cold
Frozen in the future can be expected
