"Overhead a naked esplanade..."

“Overhead a naked esplanade it's snowing...”

Overhead a naked esplanade it's snowing;

Oh, how cold it must be for bare trees!

And it looks like they desire for nothing,

But perhaps to simply fall asleep.

Evening's nearing. Day has vanished traceless.

Talked; became frustrated; shut right up.

A lone woman in the window with a pale hand

On a table sets a yellow lamp.

Must you linger on the street, weak stranger,

Not before a book, not sitting home?

Bursting with uncanny snowy languor,

Endlessly you stare at this first snow.

For so long inured to all around you,

You've forgiven, but lack strength to live.

When will you, at last, pass through the doorway?

And how soon will you cease to exist?                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                      -                        - December 1931