Full Lyrics
The first feathers of the snow fall among swans
all year they have guarded such whiteness to themselves.
Now, on iron water, through stone arches of branches,
flocked cloud, in the coming of winter
are the snowbirds reborn.
Misted first, fine as drizzle, over pewter mask of river,
snow harries furrow, enamelled bracken.
And the hard white, remaining late, unfolds through all the fields.
