The firmament presses close upon us heavy and rich with moisture
As from an o'erturned cistern the water breaks forth
Falling through coldness of Northern climes
Descends in gentleness upon our hides.
It is as a cloak of soft jewels and the ground beneath our paws
Becomes like the skin of the tree called birch.
Upon it small and quick varmits trace their marks.
Behold, the fragrant pleasures of my mighty muzzle
Are made visible in the sight of my companion's eye.
Exegesis and Commentary
Dogs in the snow. Beautiful and joyous. That's all.
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