Winter...

Knock, knock !
Who's there ?
Winter again.
What do you want ?
The coolness of your temple.
You can't have it.
I'll take it.

Knock, knock !
who's there ?
Winter again.
To take the wrong road
is to arrive at snow
is to graze for several
centuries on graveyards weeds.

To take the wrong road
is to arrive at mad woman,
woman unafraid of light,
woman killing two roosters a second,
light unafraid of roosters,
and roosters that can't sing on snow.

But if snow chooses the wrong heart,
the South Wind can come,
and since air pays no attention to moaning,
we'll have to graze once more on graveyards weeds.
I saw two sad, waxen spikes of wheat
that buried a volcanic landscape,
and two crazy children
who wept as they pushed a murderer's eyeballs,
in the snow, and say
Knock, knock ! 
Winter...  I am frozen, I think.