Now there is nothing more to strip away.
The wind, crazed wind
every day wildly shaking
has torn everything off leaving the body bare.
Day by day gazing ever higher into the sky,
Sir, it's me! It's me! Though I raise my hand
no response in the village frozen solid.
The winter is too cold, too long,
I keep having frightening thoughts.
Is the April we knew at home
really on its way?