Poetry International Poetry International
Poem

Chimako Tada

LEGEND OF THE SNOW

And then, the snow finally started to fall
After the wind and rain and sand

Stopping all the clocks in the town
The snow slowly accumulated
Upon the towers of ill will
Upon the ramparts of mistrust
Upon the ruts of wheels mired in black mud

Wrapped in a cocoon of snow
The town became legend
A grave of white pumice riddled with holes bored
By spirits the shape of glowworms . . .
(No matter how sick and worn
The old all become beautiful with death)

Where was reconciliation?
The town of mankind forgot its weight
And sent a precarious bloom
Atop a single trembling stalk
Where it continually unfolded, petal after white petal
(Like a deep and gentle wound
That becomes the stage for the divine)

Where was prayer?
After the wind and rain and sand
The snow finally began to fall
Blanketing white nights with white days
Without end

LEGEND OF THE SNOW

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LEGEND OF THE SNOW

And then, the snow finally started to fall
After the wind and rain and sand

Stopping all the clocks in the town
The snow slowly accumulated
Upon the towers of ill will
Upon the ramparts of mistrust
Upon the ruts of wheels mired in black mud

Wrapped in a cocoon of snow
The town became legend
A grave of white pumice riddled with holes bored
By spirits the shape of glowworms . . .
(No matter how sick and worn
The old all become beautiful with death)

Where was reconciliation?
The town of mankind forgot its weight
And sent a precarious bloom
Atop a single trembling stalk
Where it continually unfolded, petal after white petal
(Like a deep and gentle wound
That becomes the stage for the divine)

Where was prayer?
After the wind and rain and sand
The snow finally began to fall
Blanketing white nights with white days
Without end

LEGEND OF THE SNOW

And then, the snow finally started to fall
After the wind and rain and sand

Stopping all the clocks in the town
The snow slowly accumulated
Upon the towers of ill will
Upon the ramparts of mistrust
Upon the ruts of wheels mired in black mud

Wrapped in a cocoon of snow
The town became legend
A grave of white pumice riddled with holes bored
By spirits the shape of glowworms . . .
(No matter how sick and worn
The old all become beautiful with death)

Where was reconciliation?
The town of mankind forgot its weight
And sent a precarious bloom
Atop a single trembling stalk
Where it continually unfolded, petal after white petal
(Like a deep and gentle wound
That becomes the stage for the divine)

Where was prayer?
After the wind and rain and sand
The snow finally began to fall
Blanketing white nights with white days
Without end
Sponsors
Gemeente Rotterdam
Nederlands Letterenfonds
Stichting Van Beuningen Peterich-fonds
Prins Bernhard cultuurfonds
Lira fonds
Versopolis
J.E. Jurriaanse
Gefinancierd door de Europese Unie
Elise Mathilde Fonds
Stichting Verzameling van Wijngaarden-Boot
Veerhuis
VDM
Partners
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