If the snow lies longer

Now, however, is soon enough with
Cold, snow and ice!
If no day, in which I not passes frustrated
Only am
Because
Cap, glove and also scarf
One still needs all this.
Is this in 10 years again?
It will not be exactly thus, because in 1968
In 1977 about and what then?
I only forgot all years,
Because it interested me a little...
The children who are glad in the dirty-white lump
Small and largely in the way lie
Pushed together also so many embankments, that one can also go.
It lies concealedly what is in records under shoes, otherwise, so:
That, often destroyed by boredom, once not without reason laid.
Dirt and also the yellow tracks on almost white snow.
The urine which comes not only from the people
I saw a dog doing his business, another turn
on the meadow.
Are animals in the snow glad? One does not know this.
In the sun like one sees:
So wonderfully as tiny pieces uncompleted
From the precious diamond: glittering and sparkling, that one
At least this may suffer so much.
Oh, yes, once I have also loved that cold season
No misfortune on runways or with the lift has happened to me.
I knew the skis firmly and certainly in the shoes,
They were difficult and bulky.
On top on the mountain one saw the clouds
And also the sun then.
While driving down one quite a lot of spot
In the fog then disappeared.
And favourably the glasses were before the eyes,
Ski cap also,
since so icily at that time also the wind of course blew.
In the trees tracks of some bad drivers,
Which damage still was so?
My thoughts does not steer I there.
Fear? I knew that only seldom,
If is anxious the soul, one should on no account also sail down
On the boards which do not mean to me today any more my world.
Time, she changes a lot in me and in me indeed
Used and friends, underground they are, too early....
And this earth for a long time snowy
The fact that one can hardly see that place:
The meadow, under that quite a lot of life lies covertly long.
Long, long it is, but
Some childhood pictures will never forget.
What is irritating today however, thus, once it has not disturbed me very much.
It has belonged to it every year: the vacation in the cold of the last winter time!
Spring: how I wait for you.
My heart? Then it does not feel differently.