Белая Ночь (White Night)

white night

Poem

 

White night, wan night,
Winter gloaming has come,
A single song on the crusty snow
Dies from the beak of a bird
Who has sung too late;
He’s the last one and everyone notices him.
But his is the only song that cheers the man
Who walks home late.

White night, wan night,
Sun slides down behind
The snow-skimmed horizon
And then it draws near;
Drawing up like the lapping of water on a shore;
Whispering on frosty wings;
Alighting on the crystals in the air,
The Great White Night,
Bouncing off the dimming clouds,
Like frozen puffs of smoke:
No darkness in the northern eve.
No darkness to hide dark deeds.

White night, wan night,
Light is on all night long;
The sun, flowing like white flame
Is a giant fiery snowball.
Light spills from every icicle
And flows down every snowbank.
Only thick, narrow shadows,
As deep and black as ink remain.
Ice can clatter;
Snowmen can smirk
Only in the shadows of trees
Can black things lurk.

 

more by Lëaf Ednïwinga

photograph by Aaron Burden

 

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Lëaf Ednïwinga

Artist, dreamer, coffee addict, vagabond traveler and world’s most creative adrenaline junkie. I’m in love with poetry & dream to spend my days writing Steampunk fantasy, drinking tea & drawing what butterfly wings look like under a microscope.
I have always been most drawn to writing about legends, whether that’s retelling them or completely re-imagining them, because there is so much mystery and potential there. I believe that the most inspiration comes from our darkest days, not the ones where we are happiest, because if we are happy, we don’t have much to write about. A few years ago, I spent over 9 months in Karaganda, Kazakhstan where I taught EFL during the day and wrote poetry by night. During that time I was at a really fragile point in my life, so writing was really my only escape. I wrote over 200 poems during my time there, which sparked my love of the genre. I don’t follow any particular type of poetry or rules, I just write what feels right, sometimes all rhyming, sometimes only partially or internally rhyming, and sometimes not rhyming at all. Besides reading other authors’ poetry, I am most inspired by Hans Christian Andersen’s and Grimm’s Fairytales, and well-written modern fantasies. I like a style that is reminiscent of Tolkien as well as fantasies that borrow a lot of material from preexisting fairy tales, folk legends and mythology. My writing strengths, as told to me by those who have read my work, are a great talent for visual description, especially in my poetry, for example, putting words together that conjure up vivid imagery in people’s minds. I like to call that “word-art.”
I write about people’s emotions, I describe feelings that they know very well but can’t put into words, and that is why my writing is personal and easy to identify with.

One by one, the poems come down
From their flight on high
Like so many wild, winging birds
And alight on my paper, mine at last.

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