Like some heavenly angel,
the Snowflake plays in the wind;
Her lover stalks her among the grace of winter--
he steps sweetly and draws close to his beloved.
Entranced by her fragile beauty--
unique, distinct, and adored--
he watches her sway
among the zephyrs who tend her.
Oblivious to the specks of dust and dirt
which her crystal arms embrace--
for the hunter is no jealous lover--
he targets his arrow on her frozen purity.
The arrow flies!
Pierced in her breast,
the Snowflake falls downward,
landing softly and silently
on the earth and into the arms of her lover--
and in the benevolent rays of sunlight,