The cold will come colouring the mountains, painting white the peaks and drawing the slopes with the winter sun. It will silver the plains and with frost and ice will cover the meadows. The cold will come to change the sea raising the foamy waves and darkening the blue. The cold will come to clean the sky flooding it with light and transparent beauty. The cold will come and it will numb people who will count the days to see spring again.
25.12.'13
The original poem ("VerrΓ il freddo") is in Italian. I apologize for the translation. Corrections are welcome. As far as the sound of the poem is concerned, please, read the original poem.