Lungi degete de gheață ating aerul rece,
și iarna-n soare zboară,
Long fingers made of ice that touch the frozen air,
and winter treads on sun,
“I never saw a wild thing sorry for itself. A small bird will drop frozen dead from a bough without ever having felt sorry for itself.”
― D.H. Lawrence, Complete Poems of D. H. Lawrence
Wait, wait, ..don’t fly away! For another, more playful, perspective fly over here.
Enjoy the chirrup!.. 😉