The December sun fought
to shine through the golden clouds
and reach the frozen trees
under a bright marigold sky;
even the evergreen shrubs
were covered with frost
as on those Autumn mornings.
No ducks were seen
swimming in the murky lake,
it needed them for some harmony;
an occasional gust shook
the firs drooping branches
by letting frost fall off
and it fell like small icicles.
All the boats remained fastened to anchors,
no hurricane or storm could ever make them go astray;
summer's evenings were delightful
seeing them row along the lake's solitary banks...
I recall with melancholy the boater singing
an allegretto song with his baritone voice.