A winter day is a foe and ally
It heralds the sprouting stumps
A purifying rite after the summer
Bringing back to life the green and abandoned hopes
But in abundance it could be a foe
Sweeping all the hopes ashore
What he gave he thus takes away
Leaving behind a stupefied stench
Sometimes so rash that it breaks the bounds
Carrying soles to refugee camps
Men would curse he’d never come
But despite the wrath lodged beneath your soul
You’re just and a needed foe
Without you, men would hang their hoe.