Winter is a real man, nuclear-proof and in the long run;
his flesh feels like iron,
he does not shy sweet nor sour.
If broken stone and bone from frost
and pond and lake crash;
that it sounds good, he does not hate, then he wants
dead laugh.
His castle is completely out of ice at the North Pole
to the shore;
but he also has a summer home in dear
Swiss countryside.
As soon as he is there and here,
lead to good government,
and if he pulls through, we stand and gaze at him
and freeze.
Matthias Claudius
