The wintry morning in the Alps

               
     Red dawn ignited gloomy clouds,
     Put out stars in their rips
     Then lighted up the fir-tree tips
     And slightly painted sleepy mounts
     With tender-crimson as girls' lips.
     The snow-flakes began to sparkle
     As if small splinters of the star
     To fly just now from afar,
     Such a much-coloured wintry marvel
     Can sometimes actually char.
     For long I try to guess the riddle
     Of so attractive morning light
     When day is parting with the night
     And sun has risen quite a little
     To see this endless magic sight.
     What a magician has created
     White winter forest, snow peak,
     The silver rime on yellow rick,
     Small highland village to be fated
     At the transparent Alpine creek?
     This cold intoxicating air,
     First sunbeam punching morning frost,
     Blue-clear sky and cloud lost
     I am receiving with great care
     As priceless unrepeated Host.       
            
                The Alps, 2010