The Snow Queen
Snorting white beasts leap into the night
as the faceless coachman lashes away
The full moon sets the snowfields alight
to the chorus of the scraping sleigh.
All around is the sound of howling
and the roaring of a mighty bear.
My hostess bids me closer smiling
And softly whispers into my ear…
“Is not the winter more beautiful?
Does not silence have the final say?
Without ice, all is perishable!
And that is where, with me, you will stay!”
Her despondent kingdom will by morrow
appear, as many plains and mounds scream pass.
There this Empress of the fount of sorrow
reigns from a towering throne of glass.
Into the snow, we plunge intently
and sheltered in her white cloak I wait.
Her cold, blue lips kiss me gently
Condemnèd! The ninth circle is my fate!