From the Winter's First Flake to the Last Autumn Fall

Must I compare you to the Winter’s first flake?

Perpetual in its purity; solid in its innocence from the night’s first wake

By which a sight would thaw rather than freeze a heart in hunger

Of then, thus, the more I fall, the more I get warmer.

If my deceitful eyes have mistaken, then, one must be Spring in full bloom

Who wakes not be awakened late but early to meet thy groom.

For in the midst of growth and thaw, Joy must wed a prince in love.

To please the men, the soul and the seasons above.

If thou is married, then thou must be a father like Summer in May.

Whose love is the sun that blazes in passion kept by a warm heart that beats all day;

Who sweats never in fatigue but for thy dear Joy, beloved wife;

Whom, again is the sun; is the love and is the heart that pumps eternity into thy life.

Must it hurt, but I must tell: there is no eternity in life but there is in love,

For what comes after time is Death who will teach thee to treasure not what you have but who you have

And one man’s grave buries not treasures but immortal memories of all:

Such like beloved Joy— a wife, a friend who will catch you on your last Autumn fall.