Like a shepherd, the wind is driving
snowflakes through the winter woods,
and one fir-tree is aware that soon
it will be standing very still,
holy with light. Listening,
stretching its arms to the white of the footpaths,
resolute against the wind, it is growing
in readiness for one night of splendour.

Rainer Maria Rilke

Translated by Tilo Ulbricht