Last snow

Traces of the departed winter -
like islands, frankly -
turn white on the brow of the Earth,
and disappear gradually.

Theyre like ex-friends
leaving slowly but surely.
And they dont bother. -- Never!
And they dont harm. -- Definitely.

They only bring sadness...
with its exquisite pattern.
Well, for Gods sake. -- Let be!
It’s really not worth living with reproach.