雪-英文诗歌

One quiet morning, a distant spring opened, and the world gave birth to soft snowflakes. As they began their descent from the sky, they glowed like soft mist, a gentle whisper that carried secrets of winter beneath its delicate leaves. These snowflakes, as light as smoke, as white as silver, kissed the land tenderly. They whispered to the earth as they danced in the air, one after another, each one a tiny spark igniting their own fire within them. As the days went on, snowflakes fell soft all around, from tall trees down to small branches and even onto people's faces. The trees in streets were covered with snow, like a silver snake encircling them, while the land itself was all white, as though it had been painted by a gentle, almost invisible brush of mist. The walls of gardens were filled with snow, like a snake-like cover, but with a silver, graceful allure. The snowflakes were the thick quilts that covered the wheat of hardworking farmers, their hard work reflected in the beauty of their fall when it arrived. They said next year, "There will be a big harvest..."