The slenderness of the delicate letters
The softness of the deep-meaning words
Painted on a snow white paper.
The Silver Poet sits under the dim light
Of the mystic star-knitted universe.

Closing the eyes he feels a crystal tear
Rolling down like a raindrop on the glass
Falling into eternity, dropping on the snowy paper.
The Silver Poet is shivering but has no fear.

The words he limns flow like a pure river
Down the mountain slopes leaving its path
An everlasting mark which will never vanish
The poem comes alive when the Silver Poet breathes.

He takes out his Golden Heart to accomplish the poem
And gives his wondrous soul for the sake of the rhythm.

The poem is ready to become another bright star
Knitted carefully around the Silver Poet's Golden Heart.