Winter Poems
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Authors of poems, text, photos, images & paintings:
Thierry Butler, Manfred Mally, Steve Cohen, Andy Royce.
Sylvie D., Nick John, Yves Jacob, Jimm Hughey,
Guy Levesque, Swati Kamalakar, Michael Ackzien, Luca Storero,
Lumin Osity, Margret Tschirch, Matthew Sarides, Emmanuel Geitz.
Choice of colors, font, layout & main organizer:
Emmanuel Geitz.
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From United States of America ✧ Thierry Butler
A mother watches over her nest
Predators approach to prey on her.
The winter looms all around.
The clouds gather, she keeps a watch.
And yet, she remains.
A mother watches over her nest.
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From Austria ✧ Manfred Mally
Now the world has acquired
Winter and died
Is every flowering rice.
Gone are all the dreams!
The trees are stripped of their leaves,
Wrapped in snow and ice.
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From United States of America ✧ Steve Cohen
Contrasts
Cold
Consolidated
Contained
Crystalline And Liquid
Hard And Soft
Still And Dynamic
Asleep And Waiting To Be Awakened
Frozen And Alive
Quiet And Never Silent
Exciting And Depressing
Desired And Endured
Enjoyed And Tolerated
Too Long And Too Short
Winter
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From United States of America ✧ Andy Royce
Winter’s Rose Stem
Winter’s chill has come to stay,
The leaves of roses turn to red and yellow,
A stem of rose bush stands in the way,
Its leaves, a sight so mellow.
The rose bush, once full of life,
Now stands bare and cold,
Its leaves, once green, now rife,
With colors so bold.
The red and yellow leaves,
A sight to behold,
A winter’s tale it weaves,
A story so old.
The rose bush, once so grand,
Now stands in solitude,
Its leaves, a sight so grand,
A winter’s interlude.
The snowflakes fall so gently,
A blanket of white,
The rose bush stands so intently,
A winter’s delight.
The winter’s chill may be so cold,
But the rose bush stands so bold,
Its leaves, a sight to behold,
A winter’s story told.
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From Canada ✧ Sylvie D.
Gilles Vigneault
Mon pays ce n'est pas un pays, c'est l'hiver
Mon jardin ce n'est pas un jardin, c'est la plaine
Mon chemin ce n'est pas un chemin, c'est la neige
Mon pays ce n'est pas un pays, c'est l'hiver
Dans la blanche cérémonie
Où la neige au vent se marie
Dans ce pays de poudrerie
Mon père a fait bâtir maison
Et je m'en vais être fidèle
À sa manière, à son modèle
La chambre d'amis sera telle
Qu'on viendra des autres saisons
Pour se bâtir à côté d'elle
Mon pays ce n'est pas un pays, c'est l'hiver
Mon jardin ce n'est pas un jardin, c'est la plaine
Mon chemin ce n'est pas un chemin, c'est la neige
Mon pays ce n'est pas un pays, c'est l'hiver
Dans la blanche cérémonie
Où la neige au vent se marie
Dans ce pays de poudrerie
Mon père a fait bâtir maison
Et je m'en vais être fidèle
À sa manière, à son modèle
La chambre d'amis sera telle
Qu'on viendra des autres saisons
Pour se bâtir à côté d'elle
Mon pays ce n'est pas un pays, c'est l'hiver
Mon refrain ce n'est pas un refrain, c'est rafale
Ma maison ce n'est pas ma maison, c'est froidure
Mon pays ce n'est pas un pays, c'est l'hiver
De mon grand pays solitaire
Je crie avant que de me taire
À tous les hommes de la terre
Ma maison c'est votre maison
Entre mes quatre murs de glace
Je mets mon temps et mon espace
À préparer le feu, la place
Pour les humains de l'horizon
Et les humains sont de ma race
Mon pays ce n'est pas un pays, c'est l'hiver
Mon jardin ce n'est pas un jardin, c'est la plaine
Mon chemin ce n'est pas un chemin, c'est la neige
Ma maison ce n'est pas ma maison, c'est froidure
Mon pays ce n'est pas un pays, c'est l'hiver
De mon grand pays solitaire
Je crie avant que de me taire
À tous les hommes de la terre
Ma maison c'est votre maison
Entre mes quatre murs de glace
Je mets mon temps et mon espace
À préparer le feu, la place
Pour les humains de l'horizon
Et les humains sont de ma race
Mon pays ce n'est pas un pays, c'est l'hiver
Mon jardin ce n'est pas un jardin, c'est la plaine
Mon chemin ce n'est pas un chemin, c'est la neige
Mon pays ce n'est pas un pays, c'est l'hiver
Mon pays ce n'est pas un pays, c'est l'envers
D'un pays qui n'était ni pays ni patrie
Ma chanson ce n'est pas une chanson, c'est ma vie
C'est pour toi que je veux posséder mes hivers
Mon pays ce n'est pas un pays, c'est l'envers
D'un pays qui n'était ni pays ni patrie
Ma chanson ce n'est pas une chanson, c'est ma vie
C'est pour toi que je veux posséder mes hivers
How like a winter hath my absence been
How like a winter hath my absence been
From thee, the pleasure of the fleeting year!
What freezings have I felt, what dark days seen!
What old December's bareness everywhere!
And yet this time remov'd was summer's time,
The teeming autumn, big with rich increase,
Bearing the wanton burthen of the prime,
Like widow'd wombs after their lords' decease:
Yet this abundant issue seem'd to me
But hope of orphans and unfather'd fruit;
For summer and his pleasures wait on thee,
And thou away, the very birds are mute;
Or if they sing, 'tis with so dull a cheer
That leaves look pale, dreading the winter's near.
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From France ✧ Yves JACOB
Je vivrai par-delà la mort
Je vivrai par-delà la mort,
Je chanterai à vos oreilles
Même après avoir été emporté,
Par la grande vague de la mer
Jusqu’au plus profond de l’océan.
Je m’assiérai à votre table
Bien que mon corps paraisse absent,
Je vous accompagnerai dans vos champs,
Esprit invisible.
Je m’installerai avec vous devant l’âtre,
Hôte invisible aussi.
La mort ne change que les masques
Qui recouvrent nos visages.
Le forestier restera forestier,
Le laboureur, laboureur,
Et celui qui a lancé sa chanson au vent
La chantera aussi aux sphères mouvantes.
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Beyond Death
“I shall live beyond death, and I shall sing in your ears
Even after the vast sea-wave carries me back
To the vast sea-depth.
I shall sit at your board though without a body,
And I shall go with you to your fields, a spirit invisible.
I shall come to you at your fireside, a guest unseen.
Death changes nothing but the masks that cover our faces.
The woodsman shall be still a woodsman,
The ploughman, a ploughman,
And he who sang his song to the wind shall sing it also to the moving spheres.”
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From United States of America ✧ Jimm Hughey
WINTER’S LIFE
Leaves are gone
To Earth
Nurturing
Energy
For Springs abundance
There is beauty
And wisdom
In this
Naked tree
What is it teaching us?
PATIENCE
Holding a silent PRESENCE
Shrouded in STILLNESS
A critical link
In the chain of
ENDURING LIFE
It speaks of
A DEEPER AWARENESS
In its wisdom is
The power to just BE
This is how it flourishes
Jimm Hughey, M.S.
2024
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From Canada ✧ Guy Levesque
Ma vitre est un jardin de givre
Titre inspiré du poème "Soir d’hiver" d'Émile Nelligan
Ah ! comme la neige a neigé !
Ma vitre est un jardin de givre.
Ah ! comme la neige a neigé !
Qu’est-ce que le spasme de vivre
À la douleur que j’ai, que j’ai.
Tous les étangs gisent gelés,
Mon âme est noire ! où-vis-je ? où vais-je ?
Tous ses espoirs gisent gelés :
Je suis la nouvelle Norvège
D’où les blonds ciels s’en sont allés.
Pleurez, oiseaux de février,
Au sinistre frisson des choses,
Pleurez, oiseaux de février,
Pleurez mes pleurs, pleurez mes roses,
Aux branches du genévrier.
Ah ! comme la neige a neigé !
Ma vitre est un jardin de givre.
Ah ! comme la neige a neigé !
Qu’est-ce que le spasme de vivre
À tout l’ennui que j’ai, que j’ai !…
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My window is a garden of frost
Inspired by the poem "Winter Evening" by Émle Nelligan
Ah! how the snow has snowed!
My window is a garden of frost.Ah! how the snow has snowed!
What is the spasm of living
To the pain that I have, that I have.
All the ponds lie frozen,
My soul is black! Where do I live? Where am I going?
All his hopes lie frozen:
I am the new Norway
Where did the blond skies go?
Weep, February birds,
To the sinister thrill of things,
Cry February birds,
Cry my tears, weep my roses,
To the branches of the juniper.
Ah! how the snow has snowed!
My window is a garden of frost.
Ah! how the snow has snowed!
What is the spasm of living
To all the boredom that I have, that I have...
Poem: Émile Nelligan / Song: "Soir d'Hiver" by Claude Léveillée
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From India ✧ Swati Kamalakar
Winter
Wrapping up a quilt of fog
Winter enters wearing a muslin gauze
Haze, Mist, Dews and also sometimes
Smog
Are the featrues of this Winter Blog
Hey, be refreshed with a coffee strong
And let's move for a winter jog
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From Germany ✧ Michael Ackzien
The Skies of Winter
I love the skies of winter
Which my eyes and heart have seen,
And I wonder, could an artist ever
Paint this vivid scene?
Could he replicate the Craftsman’s brush?
Could he gather every stroke?
Could he paint each fade of pink and blue
My yearning to evoke?
“Perhaps,” my soul now whispers,
“It is not to paint the sky,
Or to replicate each cloud above
Which slowly drifts on by.”
“Perhaps,” my soul now teaches,
“We reflect the winter skies
Not upon a painted canvas—
But within our very lives.”
Simon J. E. Drew (Excerpt)
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From Italy ✧ Luca Storero
(Haiku)
Ero.
Ero solo.
La neve stava cadendo.
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I was.
I was alone.
Snow was falling.
By Kobayashi Issa
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From United States of America ✧ Lumin Osity
Quiet, quiet wheels don't roll.
Winter rest, no hurry. The fields know
On the bounty of summer, they sleep for show.
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From Germany ✧ Margret Tschirch
Steps (Stufen)
And there is a magic in every beginning that protects us and helps us to live...
2 lines from the poem, Steps, by Hermann Hesse
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Cold
Feeling low, sitting in the ice and snow,
Staring up at the sky,
It’s blue, just like your eyes,
A beautiful hue, the snow sparkles as I think of you,
I see the branches reaching upwards,
Frozen in time,
I know that you’ll always be mine,
But my heart is cold,
Too much pain from growing old,
I wonder what stories about me will be told,
My footprints sink into the snow,
I feel the sun on my face,
It has a warm glow,
As the cold winter winds begins to blow,
I feel the snow on my face,
Melting as it touches me,
I’m weak from exhaustion,
I think about my options,
I think about stopping,
Stopping trying, my tears freeze as I sit crying,
But I look up and see the blue,
That beautiful hue, it reminds me of you,
I’m never alone as long as I have the sky,
I promise you I will try, try to continue living,
I promise you I’ll keep giving you my all,
I’ll get up, every time I fall,
When I stand up, I’ll stand tall,
Standing in the snow, I am no hero,
But you are all I need,
The light of your love is all I know,
I tried to think of something clever,
But all I can say is…
I’ll love you forever.
Matthew Sarides
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From Mexico ✧ Emmanuel Geitz
Listen in your heart
the geometry of the wind
and the memoryless song of the birds.
the geometry of the wind
and the memoryless song of the birds.
Cross the skinned dawn
by edges of green stars
and cobblestone street corners
that bear your name, all...
your name of soft golden petal
that waves like a bewitched flag
by his own grace,
for his own amazement of sand and crowds.
by edges of green stars
and cobblestone street corners
that bear your name, all...
your name of soft golden petal
that waves like a bewitched flag
by his own grace,
for his own amazement of sand and crowds.
Cuddle up to my frozen ear.
The palms of your hands
show the paths
of the kisses that we have not given,
the roots of the tree
raised to the snowy moon,
a crystal nest,
the melody that is born
and its author who sunsets
in the stellar plenitude
from its cloud bed.
show the paths
of the kisses that we have not given,
the roots of the tree
raised to the snowy moon,
a crystal nest,
the melody that is born
and its author who sunsets
in the stellar plenitude
from its cloud bed.
Emmanuel Geitz
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Thank you so much for your visit!
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