THE TURNING OF THE YEAR
When winter-frost to water runs,
when the sun reveals her visage fair,
when the clarion call of the cuckoo sounds,
and fish and fowl and all fair creatures
once-hidden eft bask in broad daylight,
season after season, summer arrives.
But never broken are the bitter winds,
and cold lingers in the cool breezes
whispering of storms, of winds' treachery—
so linger with me, my lord, in these long days
before we endure winter, when darker are the nights
and sooner descends the sun beneath the hills.
