The mountain is overcoated by mist,
trees are tilting,
whose roots are trapped
in weather-beaten rocks
sre shouldered by the snow.

At the foot of the mountain a cabin,
on top a smoking chimney.

Inside a woman waits
for husband's crunching, plowing steps
dragging a hunted prey.

In the fire stove flicker flames,
on the kitchen table a paraffin lamp
is oozing, a boiling stew
on the blackened stove,
on the window sill are flies,
hibernating or dead.

Outside a howling wind
or cries for help
to find back home.