A child stands in a deep, quiet snowfall and imagines a tragedy. The world is so muffled and white that the air itself feels like a kind of gloom. Into this hush, the child speaks of a white bird killed on her nest, and the image of soft down drifting from her breast blurs horribly with the actual snow still falling. It’s a moment of confused grief — the child is not just observing the weather but projecting a small, private murder onto it. The speaker doesn’t correct or interrupt, just reports the sighing and bitter words, letting the scene hold its strange weight. The mood is suspended and eerie, mixing the silvery beauty of falling snow with a quiet ache. You’re left with the sense of a child’s loneliness made visible, a fleeting sadness caught inside that cold, dusky brightness.
Snow — Summary
IN the gloom of whiteness, In the great silence of snow, A child was sighing And bitterly saying: "Oh, They have killed a white bird up there on her nest, The down is fluttering from her breast." And still it fell through that dusky brightness On the child crying for the bird of the snow.