THE WINTER KING
 

 
In the night I had a fateful dream -     
          shocking            
In the sky I saw the Winter King 
          walking 
With the sun towards the coast  
          heading 
Over yellow leaves and bones 
          treading 

              On his head he wore high  
                         his old crown  
              Made of autumn gold and lightning 
                         and of iron 
              Raging storms under his feet 
                         blowing 
              Country, home and my fields 
                         covered 

With white snow from his old North - 
           frosty layers 
He had spread on peaceful Earth 
           his white hair 
Droves of demons in his wake screaming  
           followed 
All the lands from East to coast 
           soon be hollow. 

               Knowing that, from my warm bed       
                       I came forward  
               Took a fresh warm loaf of bread 
                       put some salt on it 
               My safe home I left behind  
                       with its doors ajar  
               Looked up into the sky 
                       and cried far: 
 
"Hail to you, world's joy and pain, 
          King of Years! 
You do know love and hate 
          bliss and terrors 
You do know that life and sin 
          are a treasure 
Do not judge us by the Winter King's 
          measure 

                Do not sow these old fields  
                     with your sorrows old 
                Do not rage and kill and freeze  
                      be it just or not 
                Many homes you call yours 
                       East and West 
                Mine is one of them - come in, 
                    be my guest!"