Chilly
The wind without is chilly.
Wide streets are bare, none are there.
Theses winding parts are long and cold.
All street lamps too are frosty.
I shiver along within my arms.
It’s so cold, would I withstand?
There! I see lights within a house,
Hear voices, see shadows from without.
I take my chance and knock all doors.
Harsh voices resound from within.
How one quickly falls out of place
When his glamour he cannot trace.
I trudge homewards with frozen steps.
I force open my door, then in.
I crawl into by bed, but see!
My sheets once warm are now so cold,
My chimney, fiery, now does freeze.
Now I sigh, where do I turn
When it’s cold without and chills within?
Even the moon conceals its light,
And the nightingale withholds its sound
To sink the frozen heart in me.
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