Снег идёт

Снег идёт, снег идёт.
К белым звездочкам в буране
Тянутся цветы герани
За оконный переплёт.

Снег идёт, и всё в смятеньи,
Всё пускается в полёт, -
Чёрной лестницы ступени,
Перекрестка поворот.

Снег идёт, снег идёт,
Словно падают не хлопья,
А в заплатанном салопе
Сходит наземь небосвод.

Словно с видом чудака,
С верхней лестничной площадки,
Крадучись, играя в прятки,
Сходит небо с чердака.

Потому что жизнь не ждёт.
Не оглянешься - и святки.
Только промежуток краткий,
Смотришь, там и новый год.

Снег идет, густой-густой.
В ногу с ним, стопами теми,
В том же темпе, с ленью той
Или с той же быстротой,
Может быть, проходит время?

Может быть, за годом год
Следуют, как снег идёт,
Или как слова в поэме?

Снег идёт, снег идёт,
Снег идет, и всё в смятеньи:
Убеленный пешеход,
Удивлённые растенья,
Перекрестка поворот.

Snow is falling: snow is falling.
Geranium flowers reach
for the blizzards small white stars
past the windows edge.

Snow is falling, all is lost,
the whole worlds streaming past:
the flight of steps on the back stairs,
the corner where roads cross.

Snow is falling: snow is falling,
not snowflakes stealing down,
Sky parachutes to earth instead,
in his worn dressing gown.

As if he's playing hide-and-seek,
across the upper landings,
a mad thing, slowly sneaks,
Sky creeps down from the attic.

Its all because life wont wait,
before you know, its Christmas here.
And look, in a minute,
suddenly its New Year.

Snow is falling, deeper deeper.
Maybe, with that same stride
in that same tempo,
with that same languor,
Times going by?

Year after year, perhaps,
passing, as snows falling,
like words in a poem?
Snows falling: snows falling.

Snow is falling, all is lost
the whitened passers-by,
leaves startled showing,
the corners where roads cross.

Tony Kline

Snowing on, snowing on.

On a windowsill, the flower
Of geranium's reaching out for
Starlets of the snow beyond.

Snowing on and all’s in chaos,
All's engaged into a twirl:
Wooden footsteps of back stairs
And a snowbound crossroad turn.

Snowing on, snowing on.
Like instead of snowflake starlets,
Vault of heaven in a darned coat
Slowly squeezes in alow.

Like the chap who lives atop,
An odd fellow from the attic,
Stealthily, like playing hide-seek,
Heaven crouches from the loft.

Inasmuch as life can’t wait.
Look around, and here’s a yuletide;
Just a break as short as few nights,
And a New Year is ahead.

Snow is thick, very thick.
Keeping pace and right behind it,
In its tempo, on its heels,
Just as idle or as quick,
Probably, the time's expiring.

If a year succeeds a year
Like the snow that goes ahead
Or like vocals in a rhyme scheme...

Snowing on, snowing on,
Snowing on and all’s in chaos:
Walkers, whitened by the snow,
An astonished house geranium
And a snowbound crossroad turn.