Clouds wrestle in the skies above
all competing for the wind’s wild love
Down below the ruffled grass
parts to let Boreas pass
Shedding sharp notes, silver and long:
a jaunty whistle, ears numb from his song.
From vainglorious passion, jealous spite
he bends the trees to prove his might
Their slender tendrils debonair
rake his daughters’ tangled hair
Daughters of Boreas who wander the hills
each blind unto the other’s chills
For rarely do wind and woman mate
in keeping with the wish of the Fates
So snow sprays in the perfume of the skies
as wintry kisses upon frozen eyes.