The snow is here, the world is laughing, The world in white, in everything. The farmer’s hands reach towards the heavens, To thank the Lord for all the givens.
In his eyes, the snow is a golden farm, Where every flake is worth a wealth of gold. He sees it in the yellow seeds of figs, And in the ears of wheat that wait in cold.
The children are jumping together, They laugh as they gather the snow, Working with all of their might, To make a big snowman of white.
Oh my God, watch the trees in white, As beautiful and shy as brides. Who is the groom and where is he now? Is he the snowman? No, the clouds are the groom.
A shopkeeper watches from his window, He laughs with his heart and whispers low; At first, he sees the snow as money and silver, Then he sees it as gold, a treasure to deliver.
But then he thinks of the Bible and Quran, That snow is more than any earthly thing. It is the life—not only for people, but for all creatures, Even for the stones, snow is the gold for gold itself.
It sees all souls with equal rank and power, For snow, a king and a poor man are the same. The snow is white, and when it falls, A blanket of peace, it covers all.
If one says spring is more beautiful, I think they blind their eyes to winter's light For winter is the mother of the seasons, And the snow is the mother of blossoms.
Oh now, lovely snow, come and shine, To bring deep peace and love to all the world.
— Hamid Hassanshahinejad © 2025
Dec 20, 2025
Dec 20, 2025 at 9:50 AM UTC
The snow is here, the world is laughing, The world in white, in everything. The farmer’s hands reach towards the heavens, To thank the Lord for all the givens.
In his eyes, the snow is a golden farm, Where every flake is worth a wealth of gold. He sees it in the yellow seeds of figs, And in the ears of wheat that wait in cold.
The children are jumping together, They laugh as they gather the snow, Working with all of their might, To make a big snowman of white.
Oh my God, watch the trees in white, As beautiful and shy as brides. Who is the groom and where is he now? Is he the snowman? No, the clouds are the groom.
A shopkeeper watches from his window, He laughs with his heart and whispers low; At first, he sees the snow as money and silver, Then he sees it as gold, a treasure to deliver.
But then he thinks of the Bible and Quran, That snow is more than any earthly thing. It is the life—not only for people, but for all creatures, Even for the stones, snow is the gold for gold itself.
It sees all souls with equal rank and power, For snow, a king and a poor man are the same. The snow is white, and when it falls, A blanket of peace, it covers all.
If one says spring is more beautiful, I think they blind their eyes to winter's light For winter is the mother of the seasons, And the snow is the mother of blossoms.
Oh now, lovely snow, come and shine, To bring deep peace and love to all the world.
— Hamid Hassanshahinejad © 2025
This poem explores the spiritual and universal beauty of winter. It is an expansion of a shorter verse I wrote previously, now completed to show how snow acts as a bridge between the physical world and the divine. To me, snow is not just cold; it is the 'mother' of all the life that blooms later in the spring.
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